I am currently writing this from the bed of my family's truck after dinner, listening to the hum of the crickets in the woods nearby and watching the sky turn progressively darker. This pretty much is the epitome of my struggle as a recent college graduate, living at home once again.
Thankfully, this whole situation is temporary. In about a month and a half, I will once again be on my own, living in a new place and exploring a new job. But it hasn't taken long for issues to arise with my current situation.
My family lives in the suburbs of Massachusetts. We have our whole life. And after traveling more and more, I've concluded that I really am not cut out for this whole suburb thing. In fact, I fucking hate it. I will never be the type of housewife who is satisfied with living such a quiet existence, where my greatest stress is between what shade of paint to use in the kitchen or what sort of cobbler to make on a Sunday afternoon. FUCK THAT.
No, it is not an easy transition going from Los Angeles, where something is happening all the time, you can just Uber wherever you want, go out every night... to these quiet little suburbs. I can't stand it; and to make it 10 million times worse, I don't have a car of my own. My brother takes one car into the city for his volunteering, my mom uses one and my dad uses the third. That leaves zero cars for Melissa.
The result? I've been cooped up in the house for most days. I also am absolutely not used to the horrifying humidity this cursed place has doused me in, so I'm not exactly able to spend every day outside, because that would be just an unnecessary form of self-inflicting pain.
It truly has been the most frustrating adjustment. For the past four years, I went fucking everywhere, whenever I wanted to. I went to Vegas. I road tripped to the Grand Canyon. Sedona. Flagstaff. Yosemite. Zion. Bryce. San Diego. San Francisco. Napa. We fucking WENT places and did whatever the fuck we wanted to.
And then I return home, triumphant with my new college degree, ready to take on my dream job- and I can't even leave my house or go anywhere. OH, and if I do ask to use the car, my parents need to approve of where I'm going, when I'm coming back, and who I'm seeing. HA! WHAT A FUCKING CONCEPT.
Now I'm sure you love feeling like a 15-year old pre-teen once again too. I know I lost it when they pulled that shit. So that is why I still made a point. I wanted to get out of the motherfucking stifling house that they've made so fucking frustrating, but I also can't go anywhere or just go for a drive to blow off some steam. One more month. One more month of this shit. I don't know if I can survive it, honestly.
So....that's why I'm sitting in the darkness, in our Toyota Highlander. I've moved inside the garage because of fucking mosquitos. They didn't have those either in LA, and now that I'm back, these cuntholes know that I'm fresh meat, so they've been sucking the everliving out of me. My legs look like they've been through a war. There's bumps and bruises EVERYWHERE.
God I love being home.
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