parking responsibility

I should have titled this post, "How I spent the night before moving."

Answer: not packing.

Lincoln Park is my little refuge now. I lose all sensibility toward unpacked boxes, job interviews, and an impending 10-week stint in a dusty guest bedroom.

Can you say avoidance?

What I really need right now is a mother. Someone to yell out the front door and tell me to GET INSIDE and take care of my responsibilities.

I wonder if I can hire my mom to boss me around for awhile.