T-minus Nine Days Until Russia

Sound: "Stubborn Love" by The Lumineers

I know, I know.  I really sucked at maintaining this blog thing.  But I did a pretty good job of it when I lived in London, so I thought that maybe with Study Abroad Part 2: Electric Boogaloo (Moscow Edition), would have similar magic.  Also, I wrote down "blog" on every Sunday from now until May 20th in my planner, so that'll help keep me faithful.  We hope.

So, we're at nine days until I get on a plane that will take me to Moscow, Russia.  Well, technically, I'm getting on a plane that will take me to Zurich, and then I'll get on another plane to Moscow.  But I digress.  (Side note: why are we transferring in Zurich?  I mean, I guess Zurich's cool and all, but last year's students transferred in Amsterdam, and I freaking love Amsterdam.)

Right now, I'm trying to be productive and wrap everything up before I peace out for three months.  I did my taxes (woot, woot, refund!), did my FAFSA (woot, woot, student loans!), and started packing up my room.  I've been lucky enough to secure a subletter, and, as a good person, I'm trying to clear out most of my stuff so that the woman moving into my room has space for her stuff.  Fortunately, I have free storage in the basement of my house/corner of the unused room next to my room (because sometimes I just don't want to carry a giant storage bin down to the basement).

Packing up your entire room leads to some weird situations; you come across stuff, buried in the recesses of the storage bin under your bed, that you forgot you owned.  Then, if you're me, you stare at this newly re-discovered item, think "I hope that was a gift.  I hope I didn't actually spend money on that," and then, too overwhelmed to decide to keep it or throw it away, shove it back into the storage bin to deal with at some point in the unforeseen future.

I also have (what I suspect is) a somewhat unique packing problem: my books.  See, rational me says to leave my books on my bookshelf; they don't take up too much storage space, and they're books.  They'll be fine.  But then I worry.  What if my subletter judges me for my books (I mean, I have two different Complete Works of Shakespeare AND an Asimov's Guide to Shakespeare - this is not really part of the usual)?  What if she touches them?!  What if she spills wine in them?  WHAT IF SHE WRITES/HIGHLIGHTS IN MY PRECIOUS, BEAUTIFUL, SPECIAL BOOKS?  Fortunately, rational me is dominant enough to overcome inappropriately-attached-to-my-books-yes-they-might-have-personalities-don't-judge-me me.  Also, I'm lazy, and books are heavy, yo.  I don't want to drag them down to the basement.

But I'm sure everything will work out just fine.  Deep breaths.  Only a few more days, and then it's out of my hands, and it's time for another adventure.