Some moments require paper bags to breath

I'm moving to Evanston this Saturday. That's two whole weeks before I had anticipated moving. And, with all the craziness that has been going on in my life, this causes some problems in plans. Wrenches thrown, cogs spraying about, some maintenance required. Now there's me at work. The low down is simple: I really enjoy what I'm doing. Calling Local Spiritual Assemblies to inform them that someone in their area is interested in being a Baha'i is pretty joyful. I can really put into words the expression that comes across the receiver once I've told the assembly member. I'm picturing lit up eyes, blown up eyebrows, and a smile that is being photographed from space; NASA calibrating their instruments. It makes this whole surprise all the more easy to deal with, but difficult in that it doesn't afford me the time that is required to call utility companies, send out emails for possible third roommates, and the continued attempt to sell random items to arrive at the rent for the ensuing month.

So, I sit here, in a pair of pants that are too tight in the crotch and too short at near the socks, and brown, zip-up sweater trying to plan when I can take a break to call Comcast, Nicor, and ComEd to get quotes. All while listening to Wilco's "Heavy Metal Drummer" relaxing in a puffed up chair, reminding me to breath and take the whole experience more lightly. I'm trying Mr. Tweedy, I just need change these constricting pants...wait.