Packing

I just started filling boxes so that I can be a little more organized than usual when I actually get moving in a little over two months, and just as I was labeling the first box, my music player (which I keep on almost-permanent shuffle) decided to play, like, the saddest and most poignant song from Enya's entire songlist. It was like that part in a fem-flick where everything is sad and changing and I expected at any moment to have to leave the room, turn out a light, and look back one last time before we cut to three months later.