I haven’t even told my dad.

Yesterday, I spent most of the day organizing the “come with” pile. I put all of the clothes I’ll take into the footlocker. Unfortunately, I can’t fit everything in the trunk, so my socks and underwear are in a milk crate. However, I need to go through the clothes once more. I’m pretty sure I might be able to do something to eliminate the crate. Towards the end of the afternoon, I proudly told Shawshank I’d put the first thing in the truck. By dinner, I’d sold the dining room set.

I sorted out some paintings an photos. I decided I wanted to replace the laundry basket I was using for packing and use boxes instead.

Cleaning tip for people who hate cleaning: There’s nothing like a bowlful of a dank sativa to the face to make you productive.

I think I’m going to pick out a couple of days worth or clothes and leave the rest in the packing. These will be the “travelling clothes”. If I pack everything else, I can put the footlocker into the truck NOW and work everything else in around it. When I explained my plan to Shawshank, I told him it was too early to do that. Maybe after the weekend. I don’t want to be living out of a L. L. Bean canvas bag for 10 days.

But this morning it hit me.

The weekend is pretty much here. Today is Thursday. For a few weeks now, I’ve said I’ll take the deer off the wall over my last weekend so I can return them to my aunt. The same with the TV, I’ve said I’d wait until the very last weekend to sell it.

That’s THIS weekend.

If everything goes as planned, in exactly one week I’ll wake up and spend my last full day in this house. A week from tomorrow, I’ll wake up and pile the last of my stuff and the cats into the truck.

And then I’m out of here.

But first, I need to get through today.

It’s a workout day. Then I need to text people about visits this weekend and next week.

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