The Paradox of Packing

Here's my issue. Without music playing, I have no motivation to pack. But while music is blaring, and I start making strides organizing, I start singing along, grooving, and before I know it I've belted along to an entire song without touching a thing. Most recent example: Mariah Carey, "Heartbreaker". You cannot avoid singing along to that song. My poor parents and sister are probably ready to ship me to Dublin in any form of transportation at this point, rickety rowboat included.

Despite my inability to focus for more than two minutes, I'm finally starting to see progress. Once clothes are out of the way, the rest shouldn't be too hard. It is hard to believe that twenty-four hours from now, I'll be on an Aer Lingus flight, being served an adorable miniature dinner by kelly-green-clad flight attendants with bright red lipstick (they crack me up). Hope there's a good movie playing. If not, my amazing oldest brother Johnny provided me with the rest of Wolverine and the X-Men season 1 for my iPod. That's love.

And fortunately, my roommate-to-be, Erica, will be on the same flight. Hyde Park born and raised, she has THE thickest Boston accent you'll ever hear. I've known her for a couple years at BU, and when we found out we were both in the program, we decided to room together and coordinate the same flight to make things easier. It's comforting that we can be lost and anxious together getting a cab from the airport to our campus residence. It's all happening so soon! But there's still so much to do!

Like... packing. I guess I've procrastinated enough. Let's just hope for productivity sake that no Glee pops up on shuffle.