Entry #3: Pre-Brit (How to Fit Your Life into Less Than 23kg)

Over the course of the last month, I've trashed, recycled or donated about 90% of my stuff. My closet suffered the most purging. Remind me why I need more than seven t-shirts, again (instead of ±46)?

After moving out of my apartment, the next step is to pack a suitcase. British Airlines has a weight limit of 50 pounds for any suitcase and I'm only allowed one. I doubt I would have used much more than that, but the constraint is definitely challenging.

I'm not terribly afraid I'll forget something, because other than my important documents, I feel as if there's little I won't be able to procure myself there. Besides, there's little doubt in my mind that I am going to forget something, so I'm just going to pack as much important stuff as I can think to bring and then just roll with it.

I leave in a little under 40 hours. I feel as if I should be more nervous or excited, but as per usual, I just trundle along carelessly until I get on the plane, whereupon I get the sweats. Is that normal? When I was a kid, I'd be sleepless with excitements on the nights preceding a big event (such as Christmas, my birthday, or a field trip to the Vachon cake factory we took in the third grade. Yeah. That last one was a big deal). Now, the idea of leaving is a kind of restricted area in my mind, as if truly thinking about it would result in incapacitating anxiety or enthusiasm. 

Tonight I graduate from college! That's kind of exciting.

Sorry for the short/boring post--just thought to check in before I jet off tomorrow night!

Theme song of the week: This cover of Free fallin'