Hey. I just realized I live here.

This is the first time I've ever moved into a place with the intention of staying for several years at minimum. It's kind of a weird feeling. I'm thinking to myself, I could unpack the college books that have been in boxes the last three years and put them on a bookcase. I have to actually find a place for every knick-knack I own, or what's the point in having it? I should go through the junk drawers that have followed me from my freshman year of college and never really been thoroughly cleaned out. It's kind of a relief. All of the stuff I've held onto in hopes it might be useful someday has met their time of judgment. Step up and prove your value or get thrown out in the dumpster. Tough love. At least, that's the plan. I'll probably still hold onto everything I did in seventh grade. For sentimental reasons. I'm such a wuss.