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3 glasses of cheap pink sweet wine into my night.

11 boxes packed.

8 bags of trashed hauled to the curb.

Two sets of mattresses in the hallway ready to be taken to the truck.

I am almost 35. Why am I dragging around so much crap? Seriously. We just moved a half of a year ago and I have boxes that are unopened and nothing really missing from my daily trek through life.

My Mother’s condition worsens.

My financial condition worsens.

My relationship remains stable and loving but in a holding pattern…

Its 9 freakin thirty and the movers will be here in 11.5 hours.

I am moving back from the burbs where I can escape my neighbors and friends at all times. I will be forced to see them all on a freakin daily basis. The grocery store. The dogpark. The f*cking coffee house.

I will be doing my duty as a child. I will be saving for a house and more freedom. I will be going to school.

Did I mention that I have decided to become a Veterinarian? Thats right. The school that is more difficult to get into than medical school. No stress. Really.

Found a stash of tomato boxes left over from the farmers market. Good for picture frames and DVD’s.

I won’t be able to escape my friends.

My friends will be closer.

My f*cking shrink will be 5 blocks away.

My dogs will love going for runs over the bridge and around the monuments. They will miss the yard but I think they would rather be with me while I trudge through a workout than in a yard alone while I cook dinner.

I will be closer to my Grandparents and the baby.

I won’t be able to escape my Grandparents and the baby.

I should probably shut up and finish packing.

I just tossed every magazine I own, all clothing I don’t love and books I will never read.
Thank you Oprah.

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Its 6:00 Saturday Morning and I am awake.  I have been awake for an hour. 

Working at the farmer’s market rocks – lifting apple crates is a great workout… free fresh food and a little cash for my time.

But I would never make it as a farmer waking up this early every day.

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