20.9.08

I Must to England; You Know That?

My room gets steadily barer and barer. My books are gone - moved into Mom's basement today. (Well done, me.) Tonight I have taken my posters off the walls. Knickknacks are getting packed up. Half my furniture is going out on Sunday. Mom and I went shopping today (THANK YOU MOM) and I got the most adorable knee-length wool pea coat ever. I am really and truly going, you guys.

As my date of departure approaches, my blind fear is retreating. Doctor Who has helped with that (I get to go to Christopher Eccleston's country? Awesome). So has, in an odd way, packing itself. I loathe packing, but once I really get going it's sort of horribly familiar, and I can get into its creepy mindset. Take with, save, throw out. Take with, save, throw out. I'm shipping an ungodly number of boxes ahead of me (okay, two and a half, but they are wicked heavy - so many Shakespeare books). And with the new clothes, all of which are all long sleeve sweater-y type stuff for cold weather. And my syllabus for my first class which arrived via email today. (I am very excited about reading Marlowe's Faustus, but I really hope I like it better than Goethe's. Goethe's Faust is just imbecilic. The devil screws you over, and you're . . . surprised? For real?)

My brain comes through again. For now. Who knows how I'll feel the day of, but getting things done this week has been good for my soul.

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