Ready to move?

So, here I am, my last week in this horrid basement hell, about to move into a room at a friends house. This should be fun, unless you count the fact I feel really awkward about moving in somewhere while I'm unemployed, excuse me, living as a starving artist. I should be able to pay my way, but I can't really, and It's my fault and I accept it as much as I can.

That brings me to the finer points of the article. OMGWTF. Am I ready for this shit!? Is my stuff neat and organized the way it would be in normal circumstances, fuck no. This place is trashed, with odds and ends both mine and others' randomly piled underneath the beer can pile I created when the recycling bag tipped over onto the floor and I was half-asleep and didn't care at that particular moment.

By moving I lose the ability to play my collection of high quality stereophonic (or mono if you're counting the original pressing of "The Beatles Second Album") LPs (or LP's, apparently both are correct according to http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/LP). I will have to hope and pray (to what I don't know, being anti-religious is hard sometimes) that the ad-hoc network I set up at my new place works like it should, or I'll have to 'steal' a router from somebody. There's so much shit and I think I'm overthinking it all and needlessly stressing myself out.

But there are pros to the whole issue. No more near-constant annoyances (my friend Sean, whose place I'm moving out of) and no more random housework assignments that don't fucking matter to me (I pay rent, get off my case fool!... or at least I did pay rent until I quit my job last week on a whim). I'll be able to be a little louder when hanging out with friends, because I will no longer be living with an on-call pediatrician. I will live in the same house as the former stage manager of Emerson, Lake and Palmer. All in all it should be much less stress free (especially after I start making money again and can afford to smoke grass).

Maybe I should try to blog professionally, but about what? I'm not sure. Maybe I could write short stories and articles about random shit. Wait... that's what blogging is. Damn. Oh well, the blog world is so over-saturated now there would be no point to if as far as financial gain is concerned. But it's a nice dream. Maybe my songwriting/composing talents will see some recognition someday. Also a nice dream. Either way, I need to do something with my life, before I turn 20 and become old and decrepit.