i'm home. well, i'm in dbq where all my possessions and my kittehs and my fishies reside. i'm in dbq, where i rent a house and sometimes i even pay for that. i'm in dbq, where i sleep at night in my own bed with my own pillows. but am i home? no. on my way back up here this afternoon, i realized how much i resent this drive. i resent being so far away. my mom asked me if i was happy to be home and i said no, i said i was not looking forward to coming back.
she said that's a little more than a sign.
wouldn't it be great if a person could go back to being eight years old again? when the toughest decisions you had to make concerned which side of the tiger beat poster you were going to hang up - kirk cameron or corey haim? i was good at being eight years old, even though i didn't realize it then.
the kittehs were happy to see me; i missed them. they know how to destroy a house, though. i've never seen so many toys and uprooted plants in less than 900 square feet. heck, i'm not even mad. that's amazing...
i'm kind of sleepy. and i need to make my list of things to do in the morning. so toodles for now.
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