I was feeling terrible, this morning, with a sad rain in my heart and a great irritation for living in my rental.
A haphazardly stacked pile of library books litter my nightstand as I reached for the pull string on my lamp. The packing ensues. It’s 6:20; no surprise, I’m just thankful its not 3:45 am, like yesterday.
Not that I haven’t enjoyed living in my rental, something just clicked, and the packing began. First the baking pans then the china teapot.
I never know what’s going to inspire me when I get up.
Its almost like a fight-or-flight reaction a TBI knee-jerk of sorts. I start feeling trapped by a situation and I move. And in these times, I literally hustle to get everything in boxes. This is not the first time this has happened to me either. Last year, this happened and I packed up my whole room one morning and wasn’t able to move for another two months!
it’s really hard to live out of boxes, let me tell you!