Monday, November 17, 2008


My mother is at it again. She wants me to move back home. She has been trying to get me to move back since I left 19 years ago. Not gonna happen. Even though all her children live within 5 miles of her, she won’t be content til she gets me there. She has tried everything. She is currently using the guilt ploy again. Won’t work.

I remember like it was yesterday being 17 and counting the days til I’d be out of that town. I would rather live here barely making it check to check then be there. Why you ask? Where do I start the economically shattered town, the complications that my family likes to call their lives, or the fact that they treat me like I’m twelve when I’m there?

It would help her cause if she’d stop saying things like ‘those friends of yours won’t be there when you’re sick and need someone.’ Friends she’s never taken the time to meet by the way. But whatever. That’s hardly my concern. I’ve come to accept the fact that I am in this alone, probably to the bitter end. Ok, I haven’t actually come to terms with it but I’m trying.

Living at home would certainly drive me insane…guaranteed. Sure I’d save some money and pay off some bills. But I would also be so utterly depressed. I am the kind of person who needs her own space; I’ve had enough of living with other people. Recently I even declared the only way I’m having roommate is if I’m sleeping with said roommate. And I’m not itching to do that.

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