Considering how few times I have managed to get away this summer I guess I should be kind of glad I'm moving right now. Life during moving feels kind of like camping, except with more cleaning products and less goodbad food.
It is my last night at Gladstone Estates, AKA The Sorority, AKA Casa Innosensia. Right now I am spending it in my kitchen where I get internet signal from downstairs, eating blueberry jam on stale dark rye I toasted in my oven, listening to Amadou et Mariam. I am finished packing and am cleaning off my old bike to sell it on Craigslist.
Somehow moving out of here feels stranger than moving out of my parents' house did. i think it is because moving out of there was so surreal and happened so gradually. Plus, I never totally left, the house is still there and I go back to visit often.
but this is the last night I will ever be in this apartment, and although I was only here for a year it was a very transitory and big and weird year so I have a lot of STUFF in this place. Not physical stuff but memories and blah blah blah.
it smells like ammonia, I haven't eaten dinner, I have to wake up in the morning and sign a lease on a place for which I don't have a third roommate. I haven't gone to class in five days, I would like to very badly.
Goodbye Gladstone!
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