I finished reading my vacation book today: The Life of Pi. Yes, if you're from Canada, you've probably already read it and recommended it to me.

And, yes, it was good.

No, I didn't think the first 100 pages were a bore.

I really liked it, but I think it was a bit overrated. And I think there were parts that I didn't really understand. But it was still good. And I'm very proud of myself for finally reading it. I've had the damn book since last summer!

Next book on the agenda?
Not sure; maybe I should first finish one of the three I've been trying to get through for the past year? The Dance was promising, but it's hard cover and the kind of thing you want to read when you're in the bath or really need to get over a hump in your life...

Come to think of it, this might be the PERFECT book.

I don't know WHAT is wrong with me. I'm having emotional out-bursts. Crying spontaneously. Hating everything (except my recent vacation and maybe my dinner mentioned below, although I'm starting to hate the feeling of that in my stomach right now too).

I feel restless. Or maybe it's hormones? Perhaps my neurotransmitters are just freaking out? It's totally time for a change.

Thank GOD I'm moving soon!

I get possession of my place this weekend and I'm going to paint!
Then I'll be packing for the next two weeks, as a rational, calm human being does when they're moving. I certainly WILL NOT be the panic-stricken freak that I've known in the past. Nope, I'm a new woman. Alex is the moving master. It's a good thing he likes me, or we might all die in this move.

Thankfully, I have a year lease at the new place and I won't have to write about moving for a full year! How exciting for you! (Scary for me - means I have to stay PUT for a year.)

And thankfully, spring is actually unpacking here in Toronto. That's always a good change for me. I'm an unabashed sun-worshipper and I've been wearing my spring jacket, walking home with my face soaking in the sunset.

Just what the doctor ordered.