It's been official for a while, but now that the number of days before I leave the Windy City has sunk into the single digits, it's time to face facts: I'm moving farther than I have ever moved before, and I haven't even started packing. Yikes!
I should be clear that this is not a sudden realization. I had suspected that I would be moving to Washington beginning in February, when I found out I had been named a Presidential Management Fellow finalist (a what?), along with three friends in Chicago and lots of other high-powered newly-minted-holders-of-advanced-degrees from around the country. Once the job offer finally came through in June (in the middle of the World Cup game between Greece and Argentina, as it so happened), I knew I'd be heading out to the District of Columbia eventually. Now that start dates, apartments, leases, and all the other major necessities are taken care of, the time has come to actually move. And I haven't started packing.
Why? Well, first, because I didn't have boxes, although that's really not the reason - I could have gotten them earlier, couldn't I? (The answer is "yes.") I suspect it's because I don't like living somewhere that feels empty, so I've been avoiding the inevitable dismantlement of my little studio because putting things in boxes makes my apartment feel empty - or, at least it always did when moving out of dorms. Or perhaps I'm afraid of blank walls (I always take down my maps, posters, flags, and postcards last). Or - and this is the most likely answer - today is the first day in about two weeks that it hasn't been around ninety degrees in my studio (which, of course, is on the top floor of the building, faces south, and doesn't have air conditioning). Whatever the reason - Mother Nature's fury, or some combination of angst and laziness on my part - I know full well that I have to start packing. So, this afternoon/evening, I intend to box up my books.
About half my collection is actually going back up to Wisconsin with me later this week to be deposited in the family home and [perhaps] retrieved piecemeal as I return for holidays (or, more likely, I'll have boxes of books shipped out once I have monies). The other half - from Edward Said's Orientalism and Bob Pape's Dying to Win to the King James Bible (with woodcuts) and the Decameron - it's all going into boxes. I have to depopulate my shelves anyway, because the one piece of furniture in this apartment that I actually own won't fit in the car (unless I decide to leave, oh, my clothes behind), so it's going to go earn its keep at my [almost former] boyfriend's apartment as, eventually, will my microwave (but in this case, because my apartment has one already). If I pack in smaller installments, I'll minimize stress for me and, hopefully, not have to face an empty apartment until the last day or two. Expect, however, blog posts between now and then - they help me procrastinate.
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