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This is what it could look like when one completely deconstructs a life as one knows it, and how to build from the ground up. Alternatively, this is a fresh look at an old story. The fine art of falling apart.

2 day before freak-out

I want to say I don't want to update, or that I don't have time. Twice, today I have thought that I was leaving in the morning and had absolutely nothing packed. I'm going to live in the stupid arctic circle and haven't packed so much as a sock. Or, I'm sure that I will get there and remember every single little thing that I need, that is not available to me.

Or the fact that Buckley, Marble and Beebs are sticking to me like velcro, and it's making me sad that I won't see them or be with them all the time, like I am now. Always with them, unless I leave the house. Something is making me tip off balance but I can't figure out what it really is, if it's just the leaving. But I like leaving. Leaving means *going*. Going somewhere, doing something else. And believe me, there isn't much here I that I enjoy. It's an island, with a bunch of deer. Not as though I'm leaving anything spectacular.

I did manage to pack two BIG suitcases. Then after I've sat on them, and closed the zippers, I wonder if maybe I packed them 'right'. As in, did I maximize the space? Did I get in the big suitcases what I wanted to? Don't forget the carry-on.

My god. The carry-on is full of crap that I don't even know why I'm taking up there!

What's next?!?

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