Empty shelves

I barely packed my room, that one day I said, “Yay! I’m going to pack my whole room.” In actuality I filled three medium size Rubbermaid’s. One is filled with the non-essential shoes I am willing to take home over Easter break and leave for the summer. Another has about two thirds of my books. I couldn’t put any more in because it started to get too heavy. The last one contains toys. Not so much toys more like knickknacks… If, of course, you are a knickknack collecting ten year old who still really loves 101 Dalmatians and tiny plastic dinosaurs. I just like being surrounded by happy things. And to me nothing says happiness like neon colored plastic vampire teeth and Star Wars bobble heads.

I decided to go ahead and pack up my joyous collection because, they really don’t do anything. The first week of school, I calm my nerves by displaying all my bright plastic toys and then I forget about them. But now that my selves are empty the realization that I’m going to leave this room is so unmistakably in front of me. And an even worse realization is assaulting me as well. Can I have all these things when I am an adult, living on my own, trying to make it in the cutthroat world called life?

I guess I can. In my bedroom (Ha). According to my future roommate, my “childish” interior design fashion isn’t, how do you say this nicely, welcomed in his life. I know they are childish, but I enjoy the happiness they bring. As I look around my sparse dorm room, I miss Superman lunch box, but more importantly, I’m ready to grow into something more appropriate. Like an even cooler Superman lunch box. Oh, with a matching grown-up thermos.