I packed my sanity in a cardboard box.

I give up. No, seriously, I do. I damn well packed my sanity in a box and I'm pretty sure it's wrapped in old newspapers because my mental health is a very fragile thing. I just hope I wrote that on the box. I packed my tea on the bottom of my kitchen box but I guess it might be karma for my mistreatment of those cardboard bastards. I think I spend way too much time alone. I did find some Irish Breakfast floating around in my drawers and it's not too bad although I'm not exactly sure how old it is or where it came from. Hey man, don't judge, I need a fix.

I have come to the conclusion that I am only stressing myself out and wearing myself down by thinking I can ever be organized. I never really have been, more or less gave the illusion of it but never was. So, I don't know why I'm freaking out trying to organize myself now for this move and have decided to throw caution to the wind and pack the rest of my shit in garbage bags...the Cape Breton Way. I can sort it out when I get there, no big deal. The only thing I think about is the laugh the mover's are going to get when they walk in to see a stressed out, frizzy haired, pajama wearing girl surrounded by three small hurricanes and looking at them with that "please help me" face. I'm just handing them the key and saying "good luck, if you have it done in under four hours I'll give a tip or buy you some weed"...whatever...

As long as I get there I guess. I'm taking my headache and running away. I'm going to turn my lights off for now and crash on my couch and get a decent sleep so I'm not freaking out tomorrow. Think I might call in sick so I can have two whole days to finish up. The are a lot of things to go into garbage bags and I'm not looking forward to the shoving. The boxes should be happy that I'm finally finished with them though but I don't think they realize what's coming next: the unpacking, the breaking down the...gasp... RECYCLING!!