A Place for my stuff


Moving out of the house I have lived in close to my whole life. Strange sentence, Getting married in 5 months, surprisingly not strange. The human mind attached fear and anxiety to some odd concepts. I’m beginning to wonder just how smart I am. Spending the rest of your life with one person, to have and to hold ect. Not a problem, she’s a great gal, we get along famously, no worries. Attempting to box my stuff up and move, freakin me out. What, did somewhere below the conscious level of thought my brain think we were going to live in my bedroom for the rest of our lives. I really need to get my mental shit together. Also probably doesn’t help that my brain is on cruise control today, set to the school speed limit of 15. I don’t seem to be making any time. Perhaps tomorrow will bring a better post, perhaps not.