I had to babysit last night and it dawned on me how American I am. I made them grilled cheese sandwiches and opened their Trix yogurt for them and made them drink their milk. I made Jacob turn off the TV to finish his homework while I drove Marissa to soccer and let Zach bring his Gameboy because he just got the Lego Star Wars game for his birthday. We got home and I pitched to Zach (he also got a new bat for his birthday) and pushed Micah on the swing hanging from the tree in the backyard. I convinced him to take the band-aid off his owie because it was only halfway attached to his knee. I told him it wouldn't hurt even though I knew it would for a second or two but that he'd forget when I pretended to be grossed out by his wound. It was so funny. I loved it but I was still glad to get paid and drive away from that life.
I stopped by my apartment to grab hangers and my pillow and had a “what was I thinking” moment and mourned my last chance at living alone for the next 3 years or so. I decided that it would be okay since I’ll still have the apartment to go hang out in (and clean) whenever I want, which will probably be every day after work until I get everything done.
It was so strange to panic about moving in with Vicki. It was just a day of being out of control and I couldn’t handle it. I think I’m ready to panic when I get to Sheffield, but I know that I’ll be walking into a blank slate, a place where I get to decide where my bed goes and I know there will be room for my shoes. So even if I panic about being away from home, at least it will be in a place that I can make look familiar. Right? I just think I wasn't ready to move in with people who are already living a life that I'm not familiar with at all. It was a good lesson. Basically I’m just learning a lot about myself. And that’s what it’s all about.
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