i need a phone call, i need a plane ride

I move, all the fucking time.

It’s another one of the things, like rescuing kittens, that I do.

And when I was 14, and told that we were moving back to Canada after 4 years in Seattle, I was not happy. I was pissed off.

So after hearing the horrifying news, and after phoning Meryl to tell her the horrifying news, I started getting ready to go immediately. I took down all of  my posters. I started packing my clothes. I got ready to go, 3 months before we were actually set to move back to Canada. I got ready to go, because I was pissed/sad, sad, sad.

I wish I could summon some of that “energy” now. Just a bit of it, just for a little while.

I am moving in 6 days. Back to Canada. After 3 years away. After 2 years in Manila. And I have not packed anything. Actually, that’s not true. I put some DVDs in a bag and then I wanted to watch a bunch of them this weekend so I took them all out of the bag and now they are just on the floor not in the bag.

I have 2 years of life in Manila, 3 years of life outside of Canada, and a lot of shit, sitting out completely unpacked and completely not ready for the move to the other side of the ocean.

Someone make me mad. Sad. Pissed. Sober. Anything. Just a bit, just for a little while. So that I can get stuff into bags and boxes and ready to go in 6 days.

Shit needs to get done here.