Thursday 12 July 2012

(Not) Home Alone

Ever since I've moved to the suburbs, I've made every excuse to get as far away as possible from the house as regularly as I can. This was ridiculously easy when I had a job. I'd take any reason to stay out late ranging from using random reasons to stay late at work to catching a 9.30pm screening of Titanic in 3D (GOD that movie is long!). And I don't even like Titanic. However, now that I'm unemployed, my means of physical escapism have somewhat dwindled. It wasn't so bad initially; I made sure I had plans on the other side of town for the entire week after my last day at work. Then I went on a trip to Goa for 10 days (I went by myself and it was awesome but the only thing most people seem to care about is that I didn't click any pictures except 20 of a dog I fell in love with and you just need to get over it because I forgot okay?).

That's his nose. I tried to get a picture of his face but he thought my phone was a toy and jumped on it. But doesn't he have a cute nose?

However, in the last three weeks that I've been back, I haven't been so lucky and I've been stuck in the house quite a bit. And now my mom quit her job as well. This is her second week of unemployment and I'm still dealing with not having the house all to myself. Having been a latchkey kid my entire life, my system has been thrown a little off by the presence of another human being in the house for an extended period of time. (As a kid, I could never understand what the big deal was when friends would extol the virtues of having the house all to themselves for a few hours or *gasp* for the entire night. Why would anyone want to stay alone at night anyway? It's dark, full of spooky noises and potential murderers/ghosts lurking just behind the door and you can't even go to sleep unless you've emotionally blackmailed a friend into talking to you until you fall asleep).


Anyway the point is, I have to remember I'm not alone anymore which means there are certain things I'm not allowed to do; things which I may or may not have accidentally already done/said in mom's presence causing her to question my already flailing sanity.

I can
Paint my nails red and sneak admiring glances at them (not more than thrice a day).

I can't
Decide that red nails grant me evil overlord status and randomly practise my evil laughter.

I can
Think back to a conversation I had a day (or a week) ago and come up with the perfect comeback.

I can't
Dramatically reenact the conversation out loud with the comeback in tow and then loudly blame the universe for not making me witty when I need to be. 

I can
Hum a tune. Quietly.

I can't 
Burst into song at random/inappropriate moments including but not limited to when I'm reading a book, when I'm watching television, when  I'm in front of the computer, at 8 in the morning when I'm supposed to be asleep, at 3 in the morning when everyone else is supposed to be asleep or when a particularly emotional/intense scene is being played out in mom's favourite soap opera.

I also can't
Burst into dance in similar situations.

I can
Spend the entire day reading a book.

I can't
Start talking to the characters, provide them with sincere advice, emphatically belittle their questionable choices or yell "You're such a psycho!" at them more than three times in the span of an hour.

I can
Stay in bed till noon.

I can't
Accidentally stretch the wrong way and fall out of bed with a resounding thud, quickly scramble up and pretend I did that on purpose.

So, have I mentioned I really, really need a job to maintain a semblance of mental stability? Because I'm pretty sure mom is this close to seeking psychological intervention.