le sigh

Have you ever had a day off, a day that you were supposed to stay home and enjoy, and you just COULDN'T?

That's today for me.

I don't have to work, school doesn't start until Monday, I have errands that I could do but have decided to do tomorrow since I get off work early.

But I feel depressed and don't really want to do anything except lay down and sleep, because I feel like there's something I'm supposed to be doing TODAY that I'm forgetting. Like I'm going to be in trouble when I remember what it is and realize it's too late to do it.

But to make myself feel better (or at least try to), I'm making a to-do list for tomorrow:

• get class changed in order to take Theatre Practicum
• try again to sell back books (stupid college)
• buy books for classes (probably will not need new book for Theater Practicum, yay!)
• get oil changed
• find out if gift certificate is worth using or if I should give it to Mom
• sell back Tolkien books since Dad got me pretty hardcover for Christmas (this'll probably get pushed to Friday as I can do it whenever I feel like it)
• try to catch up online--if not everything at least LJ, email, and plaza, and catch up board on Friday
• INFORM KEN OF SCHOOL SCHEDULE

OH CRUD. I just realized that I totally missed Becky's graduation. (She was a semester ahead of me.) OMG.

Not that she called me to let me know when it was or anything, but still. I meant to call her. ARGH.

So much for making myself feel better.

For now I guess I'll content myself with cleaning off my desk as best I can.

On the upside, I took a big step yesterday--I finally (after rolling the thought around for about two years) packed away my American Girls dolls. I haven't played with them in forever (durr) and I haven't even been that into collecting them for show since Mattel took over what was once a decent company. (Long rant, that...) Anyway, they're all in their boxes under my bed. (My bed was desgined with a huge cavity underneath the mattress for that very reason--storage, lol.) That emptied up two shelves (one of which is now my Tolkien shelf, yay!) and, by moving other things around, freed up room for my DVDs, which were outgrowing their previous space.

This was precipitated by the fact that Dad is giving me some shelves he doesn't need anymore. (The funny thing is that they USED to be mine, they were in my room as a kid until we moved to this house.) I had to make space for them. I thought it would take me all week to get everything put away but now I'm done and waiting on him to paint them. (They SOOOOO do not match my current decor. Which is also funny since they never matched my room as a kid, either, lol.) When I get them they shall be my new entertainment center, and if it's at all possible, my "coffee table" will be turned into a big, flat, empty workspace--which I've wanted for a LONG time but never had room to have in my room, lol.

In searching for the boxes to pack the dolls away in, Mom and I found a box of stuff that was mine when I was a kid. (I say "was" because out of it all Mom ended up taking most of it for the sentimental value.) Amazingly, this box has been sitting right within reach (literally in the front hall closet where we keep shoes and coats) and nobody had a clue what was in it for YEARS.

It's bugging me, because I've thought of so many of the things in that box over the last semester, wondering what happened to them, and now BOOM! they're all found at once. It stresses me when I have déjà vu's like that (for reasons I don't care to explain at the moment).

But, at any rate, some things resurfaced from my childhood (*'s by the ones I'd been wondering about):

• a doll that I never, ever, ever really liked as a kid but Mom adored
• a pillow with a pocket for a tooth that says "Sarah's tooth fairy pillow" that my older sister made for me
• "Scuttle the Stowaway Mouse," a book *
• a tiny (2-inch x 2-inch) Little Golden book about the the Pound Purries * (remember the Pound Puppies and Pound Purries? XD)
• a dollar forty-two in change (which, ironically, I took out of a paper bag that I had when I was five and put out in my CAR)
• two "books" that I wrote * (remembered ONE of them, anyway)
• a leather bracelet Dad made for me *

I discovered that I was as anal at age five as I am now. XD I found this thing, a "file" as my dad termed it when we showed him, that I made when I was five (going by that dollar forty-two, the latest coins were from the year I was five, though conceivably it could have been later...but my pre-school handwriting would suggest not) by taking some paper bags and punching holes at the bottom end and stringing them together, then folding down the tops and using paperclips to hold them closed. Each bag had something written on it (pens, money, picture postcard, doll) and each bag contained exactly what was written. (Except, of course, the one marked STNCLE, which in fact contained some STENCILS. Teehee. Everything ELSE was spelled right, though.)

I don't remember making it, or what possessed me to do it, but it was kind of funny. I guess it must have been my "wallet" or something. *shakes head* I asked Mom, "Did you not think that I was, like, the freakiest kid you'd ever been around?" (Of course, she claimed she didn't.) If I ran into mini-me, I'd creep me out, lol.

*sigh* I've heard people talk about their childhood like they'd like to go back to it. I wouldn't want to do that in a  million years. I was a lonely little kid, though I didn't realize it at the time. I had more imaginary friends than I could count, and wanted nothing more than for them to come to life, for real.

...you know, some things never change.

Whilst I'm reminiscing...I have the weirdest feeling that if we were still living in the house we'd lived in then my life would be so, SO different. Better. I'd love to visit it again (Dad passes it on his way to work every day, and I would, too, if I didn't take the scenic, cop-free route that I take, lol) just to see what's been changed about it. They changed the outside of it YEARS ago, made it white (ew...not that the mint green that it was when we lived there was much better), and it's had at least two other owners since we moved out.

We moved because Dad quit his job and we couldn't afford that house any more. Quit his job because "God told him to." Because, like, you know, telling the boss to not make you travel as much because you needed to be with your family wouldn't have worked.

Wow. That came out of nowhere.

I loved that house. Nothing rocked my world more than having to move, and I HATED it. Hated this house, hated not being able to walk into town.

Still hate living out here, so separated from all my friends. "Do you want to go do such-and-such on this day?" "Well, no, I don't have to work or be at school, and I can't drive and hour here and back just to..." And it was worse before I had my own car.

What is WITH me? A few days ago I was so proud and happy with how far I've come in my life and now I'm all angsty.

I'm going to stop now, before I totally lose it. I don't really know what I feel like doing, I guess I'll just keep trudging along with the desk-cleaning.