Back at home

I've been at home for a while now -- basically since camp ended, with a lazy month in-between spent watching Heroes and eating Handi-Snacks in a mostly empty apartment. Throughout college I was terrified by the idea of moving home because I thought I'd get too comfortably lazy to ever leave. When the time came, though, it was just the smartest thing to do, considering all my hazy half-formed plans that seem to just shift around the timeline. I can even remember how the exact decision came through...

ME
I'm thinking about moving home.

DAD
I'll buy you a new shelf -- for all your comic books!

ME
[briefly hesitates] ... Deal!

At first I had maybe a month of moodiness and general loserhood, but then I went on my huge road trip with Evan and Caroline and came back with a new feeling of purpose. Wait, is purpose the right word? No I don't mean I found religion!

It's just that being on the road re-energized this particular UniCamp-burnt out slacker. We approached each day with the most basic goal possible: get the hell back to California. It was simple enough that all you needed was some good company and maybe a Beirut album and you could stomach any place that could possibly be as bad as Wyoming.

The momentum's continued well enough since I've come back that it doesn't feel like I'm in a rut anymore. Before I used to think it was stupid to try to go home again because all the things that really made it "home" weren't there anymore -- all your friends, your relationships, etc. (Wait, was that me or was it Garden State? Fuck it. Let's say both). Sure, it's not like it once was. It's different... but it's good. And it's comfortable, but it's not an awful kind of comfortable. If you give it a chance, home can be a pretty okay place.

... But God, I hope I'm not stuck here.

A typical morning.
(Note to self: Never let any women read this blog)