As soon as I walked into my parents’ house yesterday I was immediately reminded of all the reasons I needed to get out of there in the first place. The most important reason was that I enjoyed my occasional moments of sanity and lucidity, and those moments would become fewer and further between if I had kept living with the rents.
So I moved out, one year ago actually, with no plan of ever living with my parents again. I grew up a crapload* while I was living in the apartment in Baltimore, and my parents’ house was beginning to feel less and less like home. Even though I never called the apartment “home” I stopped calling my parents’ house “home” and started calling it my parent’s house.
I’d say I’ve been homeless for about 6 months now. I’m not sure when the new place is going to be “home” but I’m sure it won’t take long once ACWF and I have “christened” all the rooms, major appliances, and furniture in the house.
I digress. What sucks about living with my parents for these days is the lack of control. My refrigerator at the apartment was stocked with lean protein and high fiber bread. Not at my parents’ house. The cereal was low sugar and high in fiber and protein. Not at my parents’ house. The milk was skim. The fruits and veggies were plentiful. The fat was nearly nonexistent. Not. At. My. Parents’. House.
I managed to scavenge a can of tuna fish for lunch today. I ate it with some mustard packets. I then ate some almonds that had been in my manpurse for about 3 months. Then I ate the contents of 2 more mustard packets. I just squirted them into my mouth.**
I’m not sure how I’m going to make it through the next couple of days. I guess I’ll just have to stock up on mustard packets.
*Use of the word “crapload” pretty much negates any growing up I may have done.
**Apparently you haven’t done any growing up either.
