It’s been a good day, for the most part. Which feels odd. It’s been a ¤&?=#” bitch of a past few months. Hard to tell, as charming and witty as I am, I know. Hehe. One day things begin to sort themselves out – often not how you’d though. I haven’t had much headspace left over for blogging. Hopefully that’ll turn around, as well, now.
Aaanyways, brace yourself, people cause Choochoo’s back, baby!
Actually, I’m not so much back as I am hidden behind boxes. Once again, I’m moving. Now that I’m all edumacated and stuff (well, nearly) it’s time to get the hell out of Hellhole and go join civilization and search for a grown-up job. I know, it’s the end of an era, ain’t it? Just imagine all the absurdity I can spot and blog if I’m living in the city. Oooh. Once again I’m faced with the great mystery of packing: why is it, that no matter how much crap you stuff into boxes, the crap that surrounds you doesn’t seem to lessen one little bit? I think all my things come to life and sneak back into place while I’m sleeping.
I heard a song today that pretty much says it all. I thought I’d pull an Ally McBeal and make that my themesong for today while I’m packing up my stuff.
