A Wandering Neurotic I
CD in Play: Dead Kennedys, Fresh Fruit for Rotting Vegetables. The Zombies, The Singles Collection: A's & B's, 1964-1969.
There are a number of things that I despise, as anyone you knows me could tell you. There is one thing I think I despise more than anything else - moving. Since the age of eight, the same year my parents split, I have moved a total of 22 times. I am close to completing my 23rd move. There are people who have perhaps moved more, I am sure there are army brats and missionary kids who could top my number anytime.
Some of the moves we have made were absolutely pointless, like that time my Mom moved us across the street and then five months later moved us to Maple Ridge. A year after that we moved to Port Coquitlam and a year after that she got married again and we moved down the block. Two years after that I was asked to leave and moved to New Westminster, where I have lived now, off and on, for most of my adult life.
I have moving issues: moving causes me to become quite neurotic. I get antsy (because my dictionary is packed I can't even check the spelling of that word) and insecure when faced with having to pack up my stuff. I actually suffer from panic attacks at times that just grip me in a sort of blank anxiousness. There is no concrete fear or fear of consequence - just an outright fear of moving itself. On the bright side, I do know how to pack glassware securely.
I am moving to the city of Vancouver (albeit East Van) for the first time in my life. New neighborhood, new neighbours, (same old questions to answer though) new room to try and sleep in, new transit routes to learn, new sounds and lack of sounds (since I currently live next the rail line and Columbia Street) to get used to. I have used Vancouver to identify my general geographical location for decades. Despite being born there, I have always lived in the Lower Mainland ouside of the city. Now, however, I will actually be living there.
Still, this is not the end of my moving. Due to my continued state of unemployment I will have to look for work ouside of the area. I have been looking for work around BC, Alberta and Saskatchewan. If nothing pans out in those provinces I will be looking at Ontario or Nova Scotia. There is also a little a matter of continuing my education so I can try and become an art teacher. I had hoped to get my BA in Art (my degree is currently in History) at UBC. However, in order to get my MFA I would have to look at moving out of BC. So continue to live in an unsettled state.
Anyhow, I am rambling and I really should stop procrastinating and get on with packing, etc.
There are a number of things that I despise, as anyone you knows me could tell you. There is one thing I think I despise more than anything else - moving. Since the age of eight, the same year my parents split, I have moved a total of 22 times. I am close to completing my 23rd move. There are people who have perhaps moved more, I am sure there are army brats and missionary kids who could top my number anytime.
Some of the moves we have made were absolutely pointless, like that time my Mom moved us across the street and then five months later moved us to Maple Ridge. A year after that we moved to Port Coquitlam and a year after that she got married again and we moved down the block. Two years after that I was asked to leave and moved to New Westminster, where I have lived now, off and on, for most of my adult life.
I have moving issues: moving causes me to become quite neurotic. I get antsy (because my dictionary is packed I can't even check the spelling of that word) and insecure when faced with having to pack up my stuff. I actually suffer from panic attacks at times that just grip me in a sort of blank anxiousness. There is no concrete fear or fear of consequence - just an outright fear of moving itself. On the bright side, I do know how to pack glassware securely.
I am moving to the city of Vancouver (albeit East Van) for the first time in my life. New neighborhood, new neighbours, (same old questions to answer though) new room to try and sleep in, new transit routes to learn, new sounds and lack of sounds (since I currently live next the rail line and Columbia Street) to get used to. I have used Vancouver to identify my general geographical location for decades. Despite being born there, I have always lived in the Lower Mainland ouside of the city. Now, however, I will actually be living there.
Still, this is not the end of my moving. Due to my continued state of unemployment I will have to look for work ouside of the area. I have been looking for work around BC, Alberta and Saskatchewan. If nothing pans out in those provinces I will be looking at Ontario or Nova Scotia. There is also a little a matter of continuing my education so I can try and become an art teacher. I had hoped to get my BA in Art (my degree is currently in History) at UBC. However, in order to get my MFA I would have to look at moving out of BC. So continue to live in an unsettled state.
Anyhow, I am rambling and I really should stop procrastinating and get on with packing, etc.
posted by Magnus at 11:42
5 Comments:
Just get lots of packing bubbles...sit and pop them one by one. Do it to music. Pop bubbles with random body parts. Chase the cat around (no cat? chase whomever comes in the room next...) Wrap it around your self and throw yourself at the walls as Bubblor the Invincible (OK perhaps a bit too much information for you of how my mind deals with stress...). When you're almost out of bubbles in the sheet pack a few bits of glass in whatever's leftover to justify the expense. Then have a beer (or burboun if you prefer).
Repeat.
Truth be told, if you have enough sheets of bubble wrap and bottles of beer it can make for a not bad evening overall. Throw in a bag of cheetos and it's a downright festival of frivolity....
I feel your pain. I burned all our boxes when we moved here to the house and I never plan to move again inside the city unless I'm forced to.
www.dictionary.com
Wah??
He was complaining that he had packed his dictionary. www.dictionary.com is where he could go to figure out how to spell antsy...or realize that he spelled it right.
Must you be so enigmatic.
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