That's the one where you torture yourself right? I went to Powells again today.
The view from the mezzanine... not something you can say in most bookstores.
I'm not sure why I keep doing that! All I want to do is hunker down with a stack of bubble-gum books and hide out for a while. But I've got a text book to read and an apartment to clean out. So I really shouldn't be wandering through the city of books flipping through the pages of The Chronicles of Narnia and gazing at the pictures in a book about the Ocean. God, I just love that store!!! But it's a bit counter productive to go buy books when I'm trying to get rid of all my possessions!
It's really just overwhelming. I know if I focus and apply a few hours of work towards my apartment everyday, it'll get done and I'll feel better. I might even have time to read something fun. But every time I walk up to a shelf or open my closet, I start sorting through a few things, then I catch a glimpse of the rest of my un-sorted apartment and begin a panic attack. First comes an odd little half whine / half scream that escapes me as I wander away from the area I was sorting. This is followed by me taking laps around the room saying "Fuck fuck fuck - oh my god! Fuck fuck fuck what the fuck am I doing?" and resolves itself with me on the couch playing Tetris Worlds (I've beaten level 15 on 4 of 6 worlds!) and watching TV.
This is just not productive.
(Oooh...speaking of not productive - go watch Dr. Horrible's Sing-along Blog - so much awesome!)
Ok... it might be time for me to recruit some help. I'm signing up for Flylady's annoying emails, and breaking out my trusty timer. Wish me luck!