Most of you have heard of the book Go the Fuck to Sleep by Adam Mansbacj, hilariously narrated by Samuel L. Jackson. Well, I need to write a sequel called Go the Fuck Away.
Moving back in with your parents at the age of 28 (GASP!) is not easy. Especially when your political and religious views don’t exactly match. Let’s just say, could be polar opposite. At the same time, your food preferences are completely different as well. Not to mention, every day, one of your parents walks back to where you are and just stands. In your door way. And looks at you. I’m trying to decide if this is the look of, “I can’t believe you took out all that loan money to go to that expensive liberal arts college AND THEN got a masters degree and during that time spent four years abroad, and still you come back to live in my house…even AFTER you are married” or, if it’s just a curiousness, like, an animal in a zoo. Eventually, said parent will say, “what are you doing?” Well clearly I am ignoring you staying out of your way. I’m obviously on my computer or my phone or reading a book or watching tv.
This is when I want to say…just go the fuck away.
But alas, they are doing me a favor, letting me live here and save money until we pay off our credit cards and the husband can get a job and move here. So I can’t exactly be a jackass. So I try to say something non-descript or general, like, "playing on the computer" or "nothing" or "watching tv." Every other day, I get spunky and say, “minding my own business,” which just pisses said parent off and leaves me in a bad spot and walking on eggshells. Not a fun way to live.
Needless to say, the house hunt has continued. Both to buy and to rent, more on that later.
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