I don't even know what to say. There's nothing really interesting. I'm trying--maybe subconsciously--to not be in the house much. And that's not hard... there's so much that I can be--and need to be--doing, and it's not all at home. Which consequently means that I'm not getting much packing done. It will be done. Like most things in life, there's no choice but for it to work. It has to happen, and whatever happens to get there will have to happen.
Friday? Saturday? All night one night? Who knows. Bah. This is just not the time. So inconvenient. Well, moving is never that convenient, but this is just...
I should stop complaining, and just start doing it, hey? My life right now--this week--feels like it's revolving around my showcase and moving. And I want to be focusing more on the showcase, not the move, but the move is slightly more imminent.
Chelsea's showcase is on Friday. That's the last one before mine--it just keeps getting closer and closer... there was always someone else's before mine... and after Friday, it's mine. This last month, mine's the only one left... that's a weird thought that I'm not explaining all that well.
Anyways, I'm going to go. Write this freakin' script that I love, but that's just not coming for me. We'll get it tonight if it kills us. Which it very well might.
infinite || abyss