Cookies for Dinner

I'm sure the 10 of you who read my silly blog are expecting me to write a long post about moving to New York City. I might do that eventually, but I'm not going to now. I will say this: it was hard. It took a lot longer for my apartment to come together than my parents or I expected. I cannot put together IKEA furniture, but my dad is super impressed by the engineering of it. And that Valentine's Day episode in the final season of 30 Rock when Liz and Kriss go to IKEA Brooklyn and she says IKEA's sole purpose is to ruin relationships is true; I'm surprised my parents didn't disown me and/or I didn't murder anyone in the 4 HOURS we were there (not including travel time).

Skip to the End

I'm ready to leave, but at the same time I'm not.

I'm ready to not have to answer the same questions and have the same conversations over and over and over again. My tolerance has grown thin, "like butter scraped over too much bread". Yes I'm excited to go. No my bags aren't packed. I'm leaving August 18th. My program is two years of classwork with up to three additional years to write a thesis. I don't feel like this will be "such an adventure" because this is my life. I'm not going on a safari. I'm making a life move, a change, and the fact that it's taking place in Mystical! Magical! New York City doesn't make it anymore of an "adventure" than if I were moving to Nowhere, Oklahoma.