Sweet freedom. On many diffrent levels. One I have been able to drive for about a week now. So when I get the chance I go, even if its just driving around. I'm just happy to be out of the house. I love my family anf I thank them everyday for letting me come back. But moving home was not something I wanted to do. I have to keep reminding myself its just two months, it's just two months. I am not the easiest person to live with so as difficult it is for me to be here its even more so for my family. My mother's studio converted to my new room, with just enough room for my bed and a couple bags of clothes. the garage filled and a whole storage unit on the island full of my shit. And lord have mercy do I have alot a fuckig shit. But I'm happy to have a bed. At least I'm off the sofa.
I also was able to go see a movie tonight, (I saw Borat, it was discusting, but hilarious. There is one scene though I wish I had never seen, it is burned into my brain and just...ewwww. The did make those USC boys look like compleate assholes.) I did almost face plant trying to manuver the stairs, in the dark mind you, on those god forsaken crutches. My friend laughed so hard he dropped his coke. Serves the bastard right. You are not supposed to laugh at the cripple.
I does feel good to get out of that apartment though. My now ex roommate and I were having issues and I was ready to get out of that place. But I wasn't sure how to get out without a fight. Seems breaking your foot in five places was the answer to my prayers (thank you god, but next time, can we think of something less painful? Is that asking too much? And moving home...I really don;t want to do thatever again, I'm sure my mother and father would say the same thing. and can I have a cool studio on King Street, with big windows and hardwood floors and 12ft ceilings? Thats probally too much to ask huh, how bout just a cheap apartment...with hardword floors)