I'm not entirely sure what to do with myself.

This is more than likely the last time I will write in this apartment.  Oh, I might make some notes here and there over the few days we're still here, but as far as actually sitting down at my computer and writing, this is probably it.

Given that writing has ultimately dominated my life, and that I am, by my very nature, melodramatic, this all seems very important.  Since that's the case, I'm having trouble deciding what, exactly, it would be appropriate for me to write tonight.

Right now I'm downloading episodes of MTV: Unplugged.  This is mostly due to the the 20th anniversary of the release of Nirvana's "Nevermind."  I spent the weekend listening to Nirvana's entire library which, of course, involved their "Unplugged" session.  And it made me wonder if I actually had digital copies of all the episodes of "Unplugged" that I had watched back in the day.

Turns out, the only one I have is by Pearl Jam.  So I went digging for R.E.M.  And then Soul Asylum.  And that's what I'm doing right now.

For the record, the unplugged version of "Somebody to Shove" is pretty sweet.

I have a couple of short stories and at least one book in the works.  But apparently I've decided that the best way to leave this apartment is by blogging.  I can't argue with that.

I mentioned to Nicole earlier that it looks like we just moved in.  There's nothing on the walls.  The shelves are empty.  All but the essential clothes and kitchenware have been packed away.  The cats are thrilled to have so much space in the closet to sleep, not knowing that it's a precursor to days of torture for them as we drive them six hours north and introduce them to a new home.

My normally cluttered desk is disconcertingly clean, save for a small stack of paper, my headphones and MP3 player, some bills, my wrist braces (which I should be wearing) and my Cleveland Indians hat.

Now I'm really digging this R.E.M. unplugged.  Lord knows I could devote an entire blog to this band, now that they've called it quits.  That reminds me that I should e-mail my brother, which in turn reminds me that I should e-mail my grandmother, not to mention my parents.

I have a strange affection for endings, made all the more stranger by the fact that I have such a hard time coming up with them.  These are important moments.  This is the time to take stock, the time for quiet reflection.  Ending a chapter means starting a new one and I am a fan of both.

I think I'm going to go work on that book now.  I should probably go out the way I came in: fighting the good fight.