I have measured my life with coffee spoons

Or more accurately, with books. Its that time of the year when I move all the objects that make up my life from one living arrangement to another (in truth, I'm little early, its usually the end of August when this joyous occasion occurs, but anything that will get me out of the Inland Empire sooner I'll take). So I've been boxing up my possessions, which are mostly made up by the large amount of books that I own. 364 days our of the year I love my books, but on that one day when I have carry each and every one of them from one place to another, they are definitly not on my happy list. But as soon as they're in their new room, I'll take solace in them once again, and try to forget just how heavy they are all together. In a sick way, I enjoy moving, there's such a hieghtening of expectations and anticipations of what the new place will bring. And I'm really excited about this new place. First of all, its in downtown Claremont, and might actually be the first place that I've proactively wanted to live in. It has a soul- unlike the apartments of the past. I'm also hoping that perhaps with a new living arrangement will come new trends in my life, maybe I can finally close up some slightly open doors from the past. A literal fresh start. As I learned last night, I would not be the only one to do so...
I'm writing this as I sit on hold for what appears to be until the end of time. Sigh. Between the holding and my computer trying to die slowly, I could really use a vacation. Permanently. Perhaps with my living situation, I'll be gifted with a new job. One which doesn't involve the hated data entry. A girl can dream.