3 weeks and counting

Well hello there, friends!

Today I'm blogging about my move.

Wait?  You aren't going to talk about your weight loss journey today?

Nope.  Nop-itty nope nope.

So I was recently gifted a marvelous 2015-2016 planner by a dear friend who OBVIOUSLY knows me well enough to know how much I prefer to put pen to paper when it comes to plotting out my days.  This past weekend I went through and updated it and crafted the SHIT out of it and realized that I have 3 weeks left till my big move.

Egads.

I might have had a mini freak out. 

3 weeks?  Am I SHITTING me!?

I checked and rechecked the dates and, as it turns out, they did not change and I was right the first time.  There are only 3 weeks left.

This realization has caused me to jump into hyper packing mode.  Everything must go through a process with the intent of actually getting rid of MOST of my crap.  Have I used it recently?  Is it worth keeping?  Will someone ELSE use it?  Can I get any money for it?

This has worked remarkably well as most things have ended up in bags sent to Goodwill or other charities.

I've been donating most of my too-big clothing in the hopes that those items will find their way into the hands of someone who really needs them.  Finding plus size clothing on a budget is damn near impossible and were I a more enterprising individual I'd try to find a way to rectify that situation on a larger scale.  As I am not, I shall have to settle for just donating everything I can.

My apartment is about 50% packed, I'd say.  I'm stuck with my superficial belongings already in boxes and the stuff I might need un-packable at this stage.  I'll probably forge ahead and just hope I don't need to cook anything in the next three weeks. 

MICROWAVE AND PAPER PLATES BITCHES!

I'll probably blather on about my emotional state in my next blog.  Hint: Panic and sadness.  Bet you can't wait to read THAT one!

Mildly amusing side story:  I DID pack up my sort-of-secret drawer full of things that nobody talks about (but EVERYBODY has) and discovered several items that had passed their expiration date (condoms expire, people - pay attention to that shit) and a few things I have no desire to own any longer (don't ask).  The garbage man will have an amusing day should my trash bag break on collection day.

I... really hope that doesn't happen.

Time to get back to sorting.

Love ya's,
Mamy