It’s been a month since I’ve been able to sleep in my own bed. It’s right here - and although I’ve removed the plastic sheets, boxes and chunks of plaster from it, I can’t sleep in it yet since it’s in the middle of the floor, surrounded by towers of boxes and bags that were thrown there haphazardly by people other than me.

I’m unbelievably tired. I’m cranky. I want my comfy bed and a good night’s sleep.

Once I spend some time with friends tomorrow morning to a) play some tennis and get some damn exercise and b) so that I feel happy, I’ll get to return to this.

My only consolation is that in having to go through every item that I own, I’ve been able to start weeding out things I know I won’t need when I move or that I haven’t touched in years. I’ve found letters and cards and objects that made me smile, and others that I just shoved in the paper shredder without reopening them because I could remember quite vividly what was inside and have no wish to relive it. I found my early admission letter from NYU. I found a birthday card from a friend I haven’t spoken to in almost 10 years. I found an old journal; I don’t know whether to tear offending pages from it or to throw it out entirely.

I’m trying to view this as chance to separate the wheat from the chaff in terms of personal belongings so that I might not have quite as much to deal with when getting settled into a new place. Hopefully soon. Hopefully before Thanksgiving.

Right now, though, my eyes hurt, my head hurts, my back hurts, my legs hurt, my feet hurt, my toenails hurt, and my left wrist is sort of throbbing. It’s only 10:15 and I could get some more cleaning done… but screw this. I’m done with today and with this week. Even if I can’t sleep comfortably, some sleep is better than no sleep.

My goal for tomorrow: a night of quality sleep in my own bed. Even if that means I have to work at it until 3 in the morning. I can take advantage of coffee’s speed-like effect upon me. Yep. That’s the plan.