Boomerang Generation, or as my mom put it: "Welcome home; now get the fuck out."

Happy Thanksgiving to all! I'm done moving out of my old apartment, which (if any of you read my Twitter, know) was a horrible terrible HORRIBLE ordeal. Mostly because I was packing it all myself. Thankfully, my dad came up at the last minute and helped me drag the last of it to storage and transported what I wanted to keep back home. And when I tell you that man can PACK a truck, I do mean it. I thought it would take three or four trips to get all my crap to storage. One, guys. ONE. And when we got there, he strung up rope and hung my clothes from it like a clothesline. Because my dad is obviously a genius.

I owe my dad in large part to fitting entirely too much shit into such a small area 

I want to say I was really sad about leaving my apartment, but really I was so friggin' tired of moving and so overwhelmed by tiredness and dust, that I mostly said good riddance and got the Hell out of Dodge. Regardless, I still took some "reminiscent, empty house" photos. Whatever.

An empty house never looked SO BEAUTIFUL.
(Also: bye F-town. You've been good to me.)

So....I've now been officially inducted into the Boomerang Generation. I'm crashing with my parents until I can find a job, which hasn't been forthcoming as of yet. Today I applied for a job about seven states away today, and will snap it up if I am offered the chance (which will almost assuredly not happen, given the fact that I've been so ridiculously un-hireable as of yet). I've also been applying for science jobs across the state that may or may not utilize my legal "prowess," and haven't heard back from any of them. Yesterday, I finished finding, printing, and highlighting all the classes I'm using to claim eligibility for the Patent Bar (it took a couple of hours), which I credit in large part to the workspace I've set up in my parents' new house. I'm in a closet y'all, which is ideal for me. Not too much room, not too many distractions, but not so small that it makes me feel like stabbing my eyeballs out. 

Behold....the glory.
(Also known as "where the magic happens.)

In order to keep myself further occupied, I've been planning out my mode of attack regarding getting into shape/becoming a super-sexy-beast. I hate the routine I've managed to get into, but hadn't changed it due to my life being in flux and the inability to plan more than a week into the future. Now that I've moved, though, and am settled into a place I'm likely to be for a few months, I'm ditching the excuses and recommitting to being a sexy mid-twenties lady. I refuse to allow unemployment, laziness, and advancing age turn me into a bigger slob. Now I'm trying to figure out the perfect cardio playlist. Do y'all have any suggestions?

I hope y'all have a wonderful holiday, eat until you can't move, and take long, tryptophan-induced naps. 'Tis the season.