Packing Vampire

Again, I'm up at 3:30am, packing my apartment. I can't wait to move next week. The shitty thing is that all the U-haul places are rented out (what with this being a college town, and August being the peek moving month). I was lucky though...in securing...a 16-foot truck...with a fork lift. I don't even have enough things to fill half of that monstrosity, let alone need a fork lift in the back.

As I was cleaning my folders and folders filled with paperwork and story drafts, I came upon the admissions folder that Columbia had sent me. How sad it is that as a pack rat I had held onto this fleeting opportunity even when I chose to come here to Indiana, where the NY skyscrapers are replaced with cornfields, and the taxis are replaced with pick-up trucks with confederate flag decals. It's not that I regret coming here (hell, I stand by my belief that the Mid-west is exotic!). It's just that looking at the Columbia brochures and the literature on their program made me wonder for the very first time: What would my life be like had I decided differently.

Then I remembered that I would absolutely broke; Columbia estimated my first academic year would cost around $60,000. I wasn't even making half of that the last year I was living in SF.

In something completely unrelated:

I found out that David's first and last name (same as mine) is an anagram for "I've dandy gun."