Really? It all fits in there?

There's something disconcerting about walking around your house and seeing your entire life stuffed into a bunch of cardboard boxes. It also makes things really interesteing when you're trying to prepare dinner and realize that just about every cooking implement you own is buried in one of those boxes.

I can't wait to move tomorrow so our life can begin to resemble something slightly less stress-ridden and begin to at least aproximate the vibe of semi-normalcy. Ironically I find that I've been playing a lot of Flaming Lips stuff to sort of soothe my sould through the past couple of days. I say ironic because, while Photogal does like the Lips, the music does not have the same soothing effect on her as it does me. I do enjoy a jarring crescendo of chords that almost but doesn't quite fit together because I know that the denoument at the close will provide a comfortable sense of security after the storm. I guess that soesn't prove true for everyone though.

I just re-read the above and have to wonder: Did i just make an analogy to packing up and moving without even trying to? I think I did!