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?).
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.
 |
| 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.
