It's a very strange feeling when everything you own can be reduced to a few boxes that you can count on one hand. The bed you thought you'd have until and maybe even after you were married is sold off to a good friend. The desk chair that was a gift from your sister and mother after a short evening of testing a hundred chairs before picking the one that fit you just right is about to be owned by your best friend. When your little Jack and Tyson who swam into your life last Christmas now returns to your sister who bought them for you in the first place because there's really no way to transport them to CA. I just look around my room and see that it still looks the same because the things that have been cleared out and ready to ship were in the drawers, hanging in the closet, or stuffed under the bed. It still looks the same, but all I'm seeing is the shell.

I'm not going to go into it much deeper because I don't want to work myself up into getting upset when that's not how the conversation started.

You know what? I don't feel much like writing, and I'm afraid if I force it, I may dig up something that should be left under the surface. I've started a great book by Katie's suggestion called Angels and Demons, and I can't wait to get back into it. I'm going to go read. My dad's coming up tomorrow, so I won't be around much to write. Pretty soon, this computer will be shipped, and God knows when it'll arrive or if I'll get the cable and all that working okay once it does arrive. There will be a huge gap here, and let's just pray it's not too long.