Moving out

This is going to suck.

By “this” I mean leaving and by “suck” I mean I DON’T WANT TO LEAVE.

The dust bunnies under my bed can stay where they are; I don’t want to disturb them or make them fly around.

Less than a week from today, this won’t be my room anymore.

This isn’t my room anymore.

My room for the summer is in a hotel with generic paintings, wallpapers and bedspreads.

Eh, at least it’ll be a queen bed. And the hotel opened yesterday.

Oh, and at least I’m not a senior.

But for now I’ll keep drinking wine and wishing for permanence.

Photo on 5-3-14 at 9.09 PM

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