I'm spending my last week of "vacation" before I start school again up in Delaware at my parents again. I have spent waaay too much time here during this break. Over a month, combined. At first it was a welcome relief from Clifton and loneliness, but by now I am very over it. Of course, after weeks of solitude in my apartment (read: room) I'll probably be like Adam Rose: singing a different tune. But there's good news! Mikey moved to Main Strasse! So I'll get to see him much more often. But don't fear, I shall monitor that so we don't have another 16th Street situation: MAL.
Anyway, I'm getting carried away. The reason I'm here again is for more doc appointments, and I'm getting my wisdom teeth out. I'm a bit worried about what I might say while wonky on drugs, and I'm worried that my mother will see this as an opportune time to pry me for information. Which brings me to one of the main reasons why I'm uncomfy here.
I feel like I am constantly about to be given an attempted "talk" by my parents, mostly my mom. Honestly, every time she looks at me and opens her mouth I
freeze inside. There's just too much potential. And you never know what it's gonna be, so you can't prepare yourself to bullshit/combat/explain/whatevs! "STOP SMOKING!" "We think you're an alcoholic!" "Pull your shirt down/pants up!" (The skin on one's lower back is something like titty tassles in this family.) "Don't talk like that!" "We intercepted and opened the results of your STD tests!" Granted, not all of these have actually been uttered, but some of them have and I live in fear of the others, even of repeats. Ah, but wait, how could I forget the crown jewel of AWKWARD "trying to be your parents" talks, when my mother side-swiped me in the kitchen last winter and asked me, and I quote, "Did you lose the baby?"
Did you lose the baby?! For heaven's sake, all I wanted to do was eat some blueberries and read my email!
I
hate these talks. I HATE them! They're so uncomfortable. It's like my mom is trying to slip in all the parenting way too late. Or, perhaps she just isn't okay with the fact that since I don't live with them anymore I am technically unpunishable in the traditional sense of the word, and so strives to make me wicked stressed out and uncomfortable through these "talks" instead. The former ISN'T WORKING, the latter IS.
Okay, I'm done now.
