having promised to ship the boyfriend the six boxes that didn't fit in his car when he drove home last weekend (a bet, by the way, which i won. i may not be good at very many things, but packing a car happens to be one of them), on today's list of things to do included a much-dreaded trip to the post office.

how many post office employees does it take to change a light bulb?
two: one to watch while the other screws the bulb into the water faucet.

how many post office employees does it take to overnight a letter?
three: but it will still take them 40 minutes (true story).

knowing that at least two of eric's six boxes were too heavy for me to carry, i strategically chose the post office in the "friendship heights" neighborhood of washington dc, erroneously thinking that chivalry was bountiful in an area named as such.

friendship heights, my ass.

no fewer than 3 burly men in muscle shirts -- in addition to a handful of capable women -- passed me as i lugged six huge boxes from my car to the curb. the curb to the door. the door to the side wall. and finally, the wall to the post office employee who was quite obviously pissed that i had so much work for him to do. i even made a point of making extra loud grunting noises so everyone within earshot at least knew that i was suffering. even if they didn't acknowledge it.

i'm not sure if chivalry is dead, but apparently the good kind of samaritan is hard to come by these days. with friends like these, who needs enemies?

i suppose i should have tried we'll-help-you-carry-your-boxes-hood. or at least mount pleasant.

when the movers left last night after 7 hours (i only have a 1-bedroom apartment for g-ds sake; how does one move an entire house?), i had a panic attack on top of my already irritable PMS. and so did the cats (have a panic attack; not PMS). which perpetuated my panic; which perpetuated theirs.

unsure what do with my tachycardia, i went to whole foods to get something to eat since i realized i hadn't eaten anything since dinner the night before. i wish i always just "forgot" to eat.

i got an amazing salad from their salad bar...

... and then proceeded to eat a half a pound cake for dinner. seriously.

i finished the rest for breakfast this morning.

(the salad is still in the fridge.)

PMS and tachycardia is a powerful combination that demands only the most satisfying binges.

right now, the only glimpse of sanity in my apartment is the simpsons on tv. which i think speaks for itself.

as i'm sitting here typing away on my new laptop and watching reruns of 24 on my big screen tv, the movers, neither of whom speak english -- or spanish for that matter-- are sweating and working like crazy to get my stuff into their truck. my dad and boyfriend told me not to help: this is what i'm paying them to do. but i feel like such a snob/moron sitting here.

so i offered them some water. (in exchange for a foot massage, of course.)

just to further paint the scene, these guys smell really, really bad. perhaps i should have offered them some deodorant too?

today is moving day. and obviously it's so vigorous and demanding that i have a chance to write something despite the fact that i haven't found said time for almost a month.

as i think about the fact that i'm actually leaving washington dc this week, i'm not sure if i'm numb to the idea because i've been mentally dreading it for so many months now or if it just hasn't sunk in. somehow, it doesn't feel like all my efforts -- the studying for admissions tests, the applications, the interviews -- mean i actually have to go to school. i was just doing it to keep me grounded busy insane outside of work. in my head, i'm going back to my job next week, not moving so i can hide in graduate school for a few years while i decide what to do with the rest of my life. which would make a few of my coworkers quite happy.

i've been in this majestic city for just over two years now, and it's overwhelming to think about my transformation during that time. i've matured professionally. i've grown some thick skin. i've become a little more politically aware. i've readjusted my priorities. i've also gained and lost a whole bunch of weight. and that's all thanks to my bosses.

i've also had an incredible roommate, a best friend, and an amazing boyfriend (all the same person, by the way) who supported me through it all. and i'm scared terrified to know that the next transformative chapter in my life will be on my own: the company is great; the support system lacking. most importantly, who the hell will i now bitch out when i have bad pms?

i suppose i won't know the extent of the dc damage for a few years, but i can speculate that i'll be left with perpetual political fever (apologies to the political-fearing siblings). and a slight distaste for nonprofits. and consultants. (but not the raben kind.)

moving on comes with new challenges, new fears, and new material to make fun of write about. i know that life is made of chapters, and we have to close some to move onto other ones, but change isn't something i've ever been good at. (i'm not good at laundry either, but my mom assures me that that is fixable.) i guess i got my dad's assertiveness and my mom's fear of uncertainty. no one gets all the good punnett squares.

so here i am: on the edge of uncertainty. about to take a leap of faith (or lack thereof). i've got that gulp in your throat and churn in your stomach that you get right before you sky dive. which i know all about since i've done it so many times (read: never).

but i'm left alone in dc to swim in these emotions for a week. (and by alone, i mean me and my xanex).

so once these moving dudes are done, i'll be left with a lamp, an air mattress, and two cats (assuming they didn't get packed. which is a distinct possibility because i haven't seen isaac for hours) for almost a week. i wonder if they'll feed me cold grapes and fan me before they go. well, as soon as they leave, i'm going to buy some air freshener. and reapply my own deodorant. just in case it's contagious, you know?

so here's to closing your eyes and jumping out of the plane.

no need to push.

(but if i haven't jumped by sunday, I might require a gentle shove.)

debbie's mind will be on sabbatical until august.

please check back then for the dirt on packing, moving, traveling, wedding, and overwhelming holycrapiamabouttostartschool self-deprecation.

there will be lots.

(and you might as well check back occasionally before then because i might be spontaneous and have something witty to say. well, probably not funny. and probably not meaningful. but maybe.)