Coming back home makes me feel lazy.
Three semesters of being away has drastically changed my opinion on being useless. I don’t like it. It’s hard to get around being useless, when your mother encourages relaxation, and your brother is the dictionary definition. When I’m encouraged to be still and it’s my sibling is overwhelmingly useless, I lose the vigor that being useful requires.
I try to clean up the mess in the house that has accumulated in my four months of absence, yet my knees get weak when you know that it’s just going to regress in two weeks time. Then i sit down, broken, and watch West Wing. I then become reinspired to clean up so that someday, somehow, I will have the bitchin’ Georgetown apartment, the important job, the loaded bank account, and of course the wit and humor that the characters have on West Wing.
I think I’ll say bitchin’ again sometime today.