Moving

I hate moving. And yet, here I go again. Last year at this exact same time, I was packing and moving. Except last May, I was moving my junk across my parking lot and reusing Rubbermaid containers. In 14 days I am moving from Holladay to Taylorsville. I am moving in with my cousin Autumn. And the important thing here is that I can't do a casual move like last year. I have to actually pack boxes. With lids. I can't just carry them to my new place, dump their contents, and then go back and fill up again. So I have been collecting xerox boxes at work. The five I got now hold half of my books. I packed my shoes in an empty Rubbermaid container. My belts and gloves and scarves and hats are in my luggage, and my bills and crafts were straightened up and repacked. I now have about 14 packed boxes, not counting the ones in the storage closet outside. I have taken down all my pictures and stuff in the living room. I am ready to pack the dishes and DVDs as soon as I get them all back.

I am no where near ready.

While I was getting stuff from the living room, I noticed that my roommate Kendra just got a new photo frame. Kendra is fond of the signs with sayings like "Stand for Something." They are all over our house. I don't hate them, but I like to joke about them. This new frame says "It's not where you go or what you do, It's who is beside you that counts." The frame doesn't have a photo yet, so my other roommate, Jessica, found one of herself, and set it in the inset of the frame where a photo would go. Not only did it break up the boredom of packing, I laughed really hard.

Now it looks something like this (I can't find my camera. Besides the batteries are dead. This will have to do):

It's not where you go

or what you do

It's who is beside you

that counts.

That's awesome.

I am going to miss these guys.