So like, I know I already said this before but THAT GEORGETTE HEYER, SHE'S ACE.

Venetia, God, I might have to name my firstborn that now. If I get around to the children thing. Which isn't likely. But you know it's the thought that counts!

My life right now is basically packing. I tore through Venetia and April Lady (also awesome, BTW) early this week so that I could finally return my overdue library books. (Over a dollar in library fines! Heinous!) And then I went to work Wednesday night and sort of haven't stopped.

Part of that may be that I hardcore cleaned my room in the process. I forgot how huge and empty my room was without the hulking bean bag chair taking up a fifth of it. Also gone are the broken lamp and fraying butterfly chair and many notebooks and magazines of dubious value dating back to approximately grades 5-8. Also, I brought up the bookshelf my Dad got me in May that I previously didn't have room for and it was filled double-shelved in less than half an hour. I've run out of time, so my books were shelved with no forethought at all and in no discernible order, but at least they are out of the gutter of my loft bed, the top of my dresser, and the drawer of my writing desk. They are in stable lines and piles, which is a new state of being for many of them, I must admit.

And anyway, the controlled chaos fills me with giddy anticipation because haha, first weekend home = reorganization and CATALOGING. OH YES. I haven't cataloged since my last sophomore year, so maybe it will be some kind of four year tradition. A TRADITION OF AWESOME. Also, of geekery.

So anyway, I've been cleaning and packing with my mother while my father gets sulky because apparently he cannot accomplish sitting around while everyone else runs about the house shouting about missing bras with much composure. At one point I might have yelled, "GO TWIDDLE YOUR THUMBS" with an undertone that clearly meant something else because I am not very mature, but you know, it never came to blows, which I consider a victory.

Also, my allergies kicked in this morning (on account of the dust, you see), so I spent most of today packing with a head that felt about four sizes too large for my body. At some point, the following conversation occurred:

Me: Mom, I'm sorry I'm being such a ditz right now. If I could just think in a straight line, that would be awesome.
Mom: Sweetie, you being a ditz is not that unusual.
Me: *laughs ruefully* *blows nose for the 136th time*
Me: (cheekily) I must have got it from somewhere.
Mom: Well, it's no wonder.
Me: *thinking it over* (innocently) ...But Mom, you're not a ditz.
Dad: (in the other room) ...

My poor father. I'm sure he says he suffers cruelly.

Mood awake Music Colorful - Rocco DeLuca & The Burden Tags: books, conversations, heyer, rl