… home, again …
Each year my trips home get shorter and shorter. It’s not that I don’t like my parents, it’s just that they do less and less each time I come home. Well that’s not entirely true. My mother has her business and continues to be busy busy. But my father’s retired and he just sits around the house and watches TV. He was up at maybe 6 this morning, and had the TV on first thing. We “interrupted” him to help string lights onto the tree and he acted like we’d asked him to do it with his eyes closed, standing on his hands.
Sadly, I had stomach problems today, perhaps from eating too much. That’s about the size of coming home. Watch TV and eat. So I wasn’t much for doing anything today aside from taking naps. Feeling fine now. Gonna call a friend or two, but I’d really like to be back home. I think I’m gonna have to find a good combination of pep-pills and start driving home. That way at least I can leave the day after xmas and it’d be ok. I dunno. Coming home is always odd. I don’t have a BAD time, I’m just reminded of why I moved out.