How Life Works

Not living with my parents is a great thing. Don't get me wrong, I love my parents. But being around them always makes me feel like a child. And to be honest, I'm pretty sure that's how they still think of me... as a child.

I moved back to California to stay with my grandparents and go to school. Colorado drove me crazy, I felt trapped by the mountains and snow. I didn't know anybody, which of course could have been solved by me not being such a cold, distant person. But after a year of living there, I decided that enough was enough. I packed everything I could fit into my dented up '99 Passat and hit the road. It had a very Grapes of Wrath feel to it, me traveling to California for opportunity.

Once I got here, of course, I realized that it was no different. The people I'd grown up with had mostly gone away to college, not that I really cared. And it was still me against the world. All that changed was the scenery, and I didn't have my parents breathing down my neck.

Sometimes I think... hey, maybe Colorado wasn't so bad. But the thought of going back there gives me a feeling of dread. If I could have it my way, I'd never stay in one place long. But that's not how life works, is it?