Into the thick of it

The time has come.  It is the beginning of my final week in Pikeville, Kentucky, and it is therefore time for me to start [insert "dun dun DUNNN" here] cleaning my bedroom.  It's turned into something of a sinkhole.  Actually, I wish it had, because then the earth could just eat all the stuff and I wouldn't have to worry about it.  But alas.  So the agenda for Sunday, June 12, 2011 is to make this room habitable for the person who shall inhabit it.  And, you know, just make it possible to walk through without killing yourself or getting bitten on the ankle by the demon rabbit-alligator that lives under the bed.

I removed all the posters from my wall the other day.  It was tragic.  My sister is now the owner of all the Orlando Bloom posters that I've had since I was twelve or thirteen.  He was my first huge obsessive crush.  Now my walls are all naked and ugly.  And there's an odd circular discoloration on the wall to my right -- methinks that the people living here before us had a mirror or something.  Interesting little nugget of info that's actually not very interesting at all.  Every time I look up, I keep expecting to see one of my numerous posters, photographs, and magazine clippings, but there's nothing.  My Glee calendar is still up, but that's because if I don't have it I'll lose track of the days and be oh, so confused.

I feel the need to paint my nails.  But the stuff never stays on very long, despite "protective layers" and all that jazz.  It's annoying.  Can you tell I'm procrastinating the cleaning?  Is it obvious?  Is it?  I'm just sitting here talking about anything and everything, because the thought of getting up and dragging a trash bag into my room to rid myself of this junk is extremely unappealing.

So!  Who's read The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold?  I have!  I love it!  I checked it out from the library the other day and finished it in one sitting, which is actually fast even by my standards.  Although, to be fair, it's not a very long book.  But still!  It's an awesome book.  Very trippy and dream-like -- my favorite.  And, yes, I know this isn't college-related, which is supposedly the point of this entire blog.  My family thinks I'm morbid because I tend to read books about death.  (Although, to insert something that is college-related, I totally intend to take a seminar in my junior year about death and dying.  Heh, heh, heh.)

NO, I'm not procrastinating.  Sigh.  Fine, I'll go.