Last night in mostly empty apartment

You know you're either moving in or moving out when your home echoes when you talk in it. That's where I am with my place; tomorrow I move out the last of my stuff, including the big things (couch, mattress/box spring, etc). I don't leave the city until Fri but will stay with my friend Andy until then; he's got a nice spare room and I have bottles of wine that I'll give him b/c I don't want to take them with me. Should be a good exchange.

So I'm in these slightly surreal surroundings, made all the more so by the fact that it was half price wine night at one of my favorite restaurants, and my friend Colette and I did our oenophilic duty (read: I'm tipsy). I'll make a couple trips to my storage space, pack up the clothes I'm taking with me, pack up the other stuff I'm taking with me (books, maps, music, cooler for food, paperwork), help the mover get my big stuff to the storage space, and find someplace to watch Ultimate Fight Night, probably with Natasha. Then I'll move in with Andy.

Until then, I guess I just experience my place one last time. It's been a good place to live, but I think we both (the apartment and I) agree it's for the best that we part ways. The lady who bought the place adores it, and I don't anymore. So she'll take good care of it, and I'll pocket a bunch of money, go around the country, and find a place I do adore. People keep asking me where I'll end up after the trip is over, and I have no bloody idea. That's part of the fun of the trip: not knowing too much in advance. It's also the part that makes me freak every now and then. Well, living in the moment is good for me.

At this moment, I am going to get some sleep. My lack of rest the past couple days is catching up with me, I think.