Well, today I'm sitting in one of the many bare rooms of my sister's townhouse. Her lease is pretty much over and today we (as in my mom, my sister, and me) cleared out the rest of the things still left.

I was happy to help, even with my sister barking orders at me (because little sisters LOVE those). I still find it to be somewhat of a miracle that we were able to fit all of her junk...mean possesions in mother's car. But as I was stuffing her books and other worldly goods into the car, I couldn't help but think of my own move-out day several months before.

It was absolutely like practically every other move-out day: a wonderfully chaotic, frustrating, beautifully retrospective day. I was impatient! As much as I wanted to stay in the place which had been my home for so long it seemed, seeing everyone else go made me want to flee as fast as I could as well. And I will testify to choir about this: it IS true that you will bring home more stuff than brought with you. It's just an unavoidable fact. I can't even count how much free stuff was chucked at me over the quarters, as well as the things I managed to pick up on my home (unless I look at all my receipts from Urban Outfitters!). One of the hardest things about moving-out was knowing that would be my boyfriend and my last day on campus together until the next school year.

Looking into empty rooms that once belonged to my friends and me made me question whether the school year even existed. It seemed as I packed my last box that I had awoken from a very long dream and I had been snapped back to reality. Did my room mate and I really dance to Akon on that floor? Did we really sit in the hallway and talk to the wee hours of the night?

But when you move out, you're always moving into something new or back to something. Such is the way of life. I'm really looking forward to moving back to OSU, my home away from home!