Oh, fun...

I will be so glad when this move is over. This whole anxiety attack in the morning thing is getting really old, really fast. I thought I was over that, honestly. I've had the singular pleasure of re-experiencing the sensation all week. Lucky me. Better than an alarm clock, I swear.

Of course, starting the day out panicking so much that it causes migraines for the rest of the day is not conducive to productive packing. It gets better as the day goes by, but then it just starts up again the next morning.

Gee, it's just what I always wanted: to relive my worst days of university. Criminy.

It'll be over in a few days. That's quickly becoming my mantra. Of course, the fact that it's going to be over in a few days is what's triggering the panic to begin with ("I won't be ready in time. What if something goes wrong? What if we can't get the stuff down the stairs?" Etc. [Insert new example of potential catastrophe here.])

I hate it when I do this to myself. Rationally I know that everything should go smoothly. It's no longer snowing, and as far as I know it's not supposed to snow before Saturday.

I got most of the books moved yesterday, and shall be finishing that along with (hopefully) the kitchen today. If I have time, I may even move clothes and linens.

I still have this place until February 28th. That means that even if all the small stuff isn't moved by Saturday, I can still come on Sunday, and all the way until the 27th, really, to bring it over to the new place. So I keep telling myself there's no reason to panic, and then my nice irrational side goes and ignores me completely.

Gah.

Off to go take more Tylenol.

Procrastination is an art form

So apparently they need me at the Banque Nationale for three weeks instead of just one. Or potentially, anyway. This is good news, as the other job doesn't look like it's starting anytime soon.

They'll confirm it next week. At least I'll have a full week of pay before I have to worry again.

Okay. Back to packing.