Sunday, May 21, 2000

I don't like my family. Is that such a bad thing? Is it such a bad thing not to like people who are a constant source of annoyance, irritation and aggravation? To think, I have to live with these people for the next three months.

Friday evening I moved about a third of my stuff to the house. This included my stereo, keyboard and the stereo cabinet. Not five minutes into the drive, my mother and I got into an argument.

Saturday morning, after a night spent packing up the rest of my stuff, it got moved back to my house. I'm glad I'm living on the first floor next semester - the view may be nice from up high, but when you live in a hall with no elevators, moving things up and down stairs gets really old really fast.

Not that moving items from the car to the house was any better. My youngest brother "helped" move things back in. By that, I mean the little brat picked up the lightest items he could find and deposited them in my room.

Left with the heavy items, I did my best to get it in efficiently. My best got me a shattered pane of glass on the front door. It was closed, and I was carrying my computer's hard drive. I had to reach the handle. The corner of the hard drive made it to one of the lower panes of glass before my hand reached the handle.

Between the arguments, shattered glass and everything else, I see no signs that anything good can come of me being "home" over the summer. As soon as everything was in my room, I went to sleep and didn't get up until Saturday afternoon.

I don't see how I can live here. This doesn't feel like a home or even a house. It feels like a cage.