done with the back story!

Ok, so now that we got that background out of the way we can continue with this idea of a third option. Moving would have been a total disaster, and staying would have been weird, seeing as though I would be homeless so I looked into this idea of a third option. Something else you should know about me is that almost every major decision I make in my life is pretty much on impulse. I never really think things through, because I know myself, and if I start thinking about something I won’t end up doing it. So on a whim I applied to yet another college, assuming that once they looked at my transcripts they would reject me. I could just picture it, the admissions office receiving transcript after transcript from all the 5 colleges I have dropped out of in the past 6 years, all standing around the fax machine or the water cooler, do people actually do that? Anyway, all standing around some piece of office equipment laughing at this idiot who thinks she is going to get into yet another colleges, as if she hasn’t waisted enough of parents money, and then it hits them. “She won’t last, we might as well take her money, with her track record she drops out after it’s too late for a refund!”
I actually got in, we were all shocked, my mom most of all. So we started packing up all the shit I had accumulated over the past 24 years, and holy cow do I have a lot of shit.
Finally, moving day. My dad woke us up at 5:00 in the morning. We were on the road but quarter to six and I swear to god it was dark for the first two hours of our drive. Everything went pretty seamlessly. The van was unpacked and everything I owned was squeezed into my little apartment by 12:30. It was time to say goodbyes.
So something else you should know about me, is that I am really bad at expressing any emotion besides sarcasm, if you can even count sarcasm as an emotion. Actually, my whole family pretty much sucks at that. Everyone but my dad that is, who seems to be the most emotional person I know.
So my brother hugs me goodbye, my dad, and then it’s my mom’s turn. And at this point she is a wreck. Basically crying as if someone died. I hugged her quickly and pushed everyone out the door. And I was on to the task of unpacking my existence. You wouldn’t believe how much stuff you accumulate in a lifetime. Things I can’t even remember purchasing were falling out of boxes I didn’t remember packing. It took almost 48 hours of cleaning before I was really ready to unpack anything though. I mean seriously, I didn’t know one apartment could be that dirty. It’s as if the previous tenant never cleaned the apartment the entire time he lived here. Dust centimeters deep lined the tops of things. Cob web’s coverd the doorways, light fixtures and connected walls where corners used to be. But finally it was clean (I won’t be eating off the kitchen fllor anytime soon though). And the daunting task of unpacking about a million and three boxes was still ahead of me, I pushed forward, blaring the music and dancing around the apartment like I was a teen at a sleepover hyped up on caffeine.