Home Sweet...Oh.
It's crazy how much choice has an effect on the way that people feel and act. Even just the having of the choice. Even if you've already made it, the option to change it, the possibility for tradebacks, can make a huge difference.
So even though I never planned to go home, it makes a huge difference to know that I can't. It's hard to watch how hard it is for my mom to clean out everything, without a bit of my father's help, and how my sisters slowly pack up their rooms. They're both unhappy at college, and now they don't have those blissful weekends at home to look forward to because just walking in the door is a reminder of the years of memories they need to let go of. I've tried pretty hard to stay out of it, since I don't want to make things harder on my mom and I know that my sisters are a little resentful since I don't live there anymore - so why should I care? But I do. I'll miss my Tree, and I'll miss the swamp. The house will be on the market by the middle of May. I don't know how long it will take to sell, or how many times I have left to pull in that driveway. I'll miss having a place that I know I can just walk into when I need somewhere "else" to go. Although, thank all that is Holy, and Whitney and Graham, there is still Sternbergia.
Saturday afternoon I got called into the manager's office to be given the third degree about how I have to hand in schedules of all of my classes, with my name on them (which I had no idea how to get - signing into the school's website is the only way I even know how to get a schedule and since I have to sign in, there's no need for my name all over everything) and a note saying that the extra time I need off is for school. Good timing, Mr. Tollefson. I don't need a home, or a social life, or an education. That's cool.
Luckily the faculty of CCSU are somewhere on the level of amazing, and I have administrative printed schedules that say "RACHEL A. BREAKELL" at the top (thank all that's holy they don't say "Ann"...) and a note saying that I get every weekend I need at least until the end of the fall season off. Boyah.
So even though I never planned to go home, it makes a huge difference to know that I can't. It's hard to watch how hard it is for my mom to clean out everything, without a bit of my father's help, and how my sisters slowly pack up their rooms. They're both unhappy at college, and now they don't have those blissful weekends at home to look forward to because just walking in the door is a reminder of the years of memories they need to let go of. I've tried pretty hard to stay out of it, since I don't want to make things harder on my mom and I know that my sisters are a little resentful since I don't live there anymore - so why should I care? But I do. I'll miss my Tree, and I'll miss the swamp. The house will be on the market by the middle of May. I don't know how long it will take to sell, or how many times I have left to pull in that driveway. I'll miss having a place that I know I can just walk into when I need somewhere "else" to go. Although, thank all that is Holy, and Whitney and Graham, there is still Sternbergia.
Saturday afternoon I got called into the manager's office to be given the third degree about how I have to hand in schedules of all of my classes, with my name on them (which I had no idea how to get - signing into the school's website is the only way I even know how to get a schedule and since I have to sign in, there's no need for my name all over everything) and a note saying that the extra time I need off is for school. Good timing, Mr. Tollefson. I don't need a home, or a social life, or an education. That's cool.
Luckily the faculty of CCSU are somewhere on the level of amazing, and I have administrative printed schedules that say "RACHEL A. BREAKELL" at the top (thank all that's holy they don't say "Ann"...) and a note saying that I get every weekend I need at least until the end of the fall season off. Boyah.