According to my mom, our entire house is almost completely packed away in boxes right now. The moving van pulls out for Cincinnati tomorrow.

For some reason, I think this has something to do with the mad cleaning, decorating, and general upkeep of my new apartment I've been practicing. Maybe it's an urgency to create a home away from the home that is nigh on non-existent.

And now, your moment of Freud:

"When I now disclose that the fetish is a penis-substitute I shall certainly arouse disappointment; so I hasten to add that it is not a substitute for any chance penis, but for a particular quite special penis that has been extremely important in early childhood but was afterwards lost. That is to say: it should normally have been given up, but the purpose of the fetish precisely is to preserve it from being lost. To put it plainly: the fetish is a substitute for the woman's (mother's) phallus which the little boy once believed in and does not wish to forego."

Also: Putting up Halloween decorations in 84 degree weather does make one feel like they're in Georgia again.