I'm sitting in a wicked mess, which I just described to my friend Nicky in an email, but will repeat for the sake of my peanut gallery. Surrounding me are boxes, boxes, milk crates, boxes and cardboard of all sorts of durability. The dust buffalo have begun their migration across the house, heading to greener pastures in other rooms. It's really quite amazing how many buffalo have left the great plains of Justin's closet; hundreds. Soon they will be joined by the herd below my bed and for a day they will roam free before the colonising vacuum people will wipe them out.

I am in desperate need of a shower, my skin has been lovingly coated with the offspring of dust bunnies, so tiny I don't even notice how filthy I am until I wash my face. I had the windows open all day yesterday in order to keep the air fresh but today it is a good deal more cold and I would find the outside air quite... uncomfortable, especially as I sweat my way through packing.

Last night I worked until the wee hours, though I also was on the MUD. I found the happiest medium ever: pack, emote, pack, emote, emote, pack, pack, pack, emote. The roleplay wasn't bad, though a little tough to draw out since we were all in the wrong headspaces. It was necessary, though, in order to distract me from my sadness, and then, suddenly, I looked up and realised I'd gotten a lot done. My mood is greatly improved now that the inevitability of the move is upon me, and with so much done, I feel it's possible to complete. Especially with this rousing bagpipe/drum music happening on the radio ! Holy ! They call themselves the Tartan Terrors and they're ROCKING ! I wish I could see the kilts. *cough*