Living with the 'rents - is there a light at the end of this tunnel?
For the past 5 weeks C and I have been living with my parents, while we wait for our new apartment to be ready. At this point, it has been a mind-bending, exhausting experience for the both of us, one we're both ready for to be over. But I have learned many things including:
1) I have never fully appreciated the grime, frustration, and crazy people who see Jesus reading the New York Times on the subway, as much as I do now. For the past 5 weeks, I have been commuting back and forth to the city from New Jersey. By car. With my Dad. This should really explain everything, but I suppose I'll have to elaborate for you:
The commute means I have to wake up around 6:30 am and I usually don't get home until 6:30 or 7 pm. For all the people who will say that's a normal commute and what am I complaining about: get over it. I like my sleep.
By car means when I drive in by myself, I witness the evil that is my road rage. This I have managed to avoid until now, by not commuting by car in the nearly ten years I have been living in the city. I hope to never see that side of myself again.
Commuting With Dad means exactly what it means. Just because I am his offspring does not mean I want to be assaulted with words and hold lengthy debates at 7 am about the best route to work, mortgage rates, and media coverage of Britney's bald head. I just want to stroke the travel mug that holds my java and mumble incoherently for the first two hours that I am awake each day.
2) I really miss my computer. It's packed up in a box somewhere and I haven't been able to enjoy the full use of a computer since our move. If I try to use my dad's computer, it's not like I have extensive use of the thing. He's addicted to it, whether he's doing work or just wants to play his millionth game of Freecell. It is his domain. So if you're stealing a few moments on his laptop, he's like a dog trying to mark his territory. He hovers. He lurks. He'll eventually say, "I thought you were just checking your e-mail?"
Subtlety is not his forte.
3) I miss DVR. I am thrown back into a time when DVR/Tivo didn't exist, having to wait for my favorite shows to come on. And I don't like it.
4) Water pressure is a glorious thing. My parents' house is 40 years old and the plumbing system reflects that. C and I like to take showers together and we have been deprived of our showering sessions for over a month now. Not because it's my parents' house, but because it is damn near impossible to share that trickle of water they call a shower and adequately bathe yourself. There has to be at least a month's worth of product buildup sitting on my head now. Dreadlocks for me are just one miserable shower away.
5) My mother's cooking. God bless her. I love her cooking, I grew up on this stuff. But my arteries are taking a hit. A meal is not a meal in their home unless it's got some measure of trans-fat or complex carbohydrates in it.
6) Deers scare the shit out of me. Somewhere in the past ten years, I forgot that I used to run after the deers that populate the area and delight in watching them run away, because I was an evil little kid. Now, when I see them while walking the dogs, I have this vision of a crazed papa deer sending my body rocketing off into the trees Bambi-style.
7) Living out of a suitcase is not fun. When I was in college, I used to have visions of myself as this Drew-Barrymore type that would gallavant around the country on road trips, meet interesting people in different towns, and maximize my wardrobe from two pairs of jeans and cute t-shirts I picked up as part of my travels. Having tried to cull together outfits out of the one suitcase I designated as my wardrobe during this move, with everything else packed away, I now know the truth.
I'm getting old. I want the creature comforts of my home. I want a routine and to be able to pick my clothes out of a dresser that has been purchased from Room & Board or Sundance Catalog or some other corporate monolith trying to masquerade as an indie design house. Pottery Barn just may also have to be a part of this equation.
8) I have inherited my inability to function in the first hours of the day from my mother. For the sake of our relationship, it is highly advisable we avoid each other until noon every day or I move out. Soon.
9) Despite his activity level and incredible work ethic, my dad is in fact becoming a senior citizen. This has been reiterated by his discovery that he can get two cups of coffee by recycling the coffee pods that my mother uses to make coffee. Never mind the fact that the second cup tastes like pondwater, he's saving money.
There you have it. Lessons learned, yes, yet they barely touch the tip of the iceberg of my experience in the last month or so. However, my dad will be waking up soon and you know what that means.
I really can't wait to move.
1) I have never fully appreciated the grime, frustration, and crazy people who see Jesus reading the New York Times on the subway, as much as I do now. For the past 5 weeks, I have been commuting back and forth to the city from New Jersey. By car. With my Dad. This should really explain everything, but I suppose I'll have to elaborate for you:
The commute means I have to wake up around 6:30 am and I usually don't get home until 6:30 or 7 pm. For all the people who will say that's a normal commute and what am I complaining about: get over it. I like my sleep.
By car means when I drive in by myself, I witness the evil that is my road rage. This I have managed to avoid until now, by not commuting by car in the nearly ten years I have been living in the city. I hope to never see that side of myself again.
Commuting With Dad means exactly what it means. Just because I am his offspring does not mean I want to be assaulted with words and hold lengthy debates at 7 am about the best route to work, mortgage rates, and media coverage of Britney's bald head. I just want to stroke the travel mug that holds my java and mumble incoherently for the first two hours that I am awake each day.
2) I really miss my computer. It's packed up in a box somewhere and I haven't been able to enjoy the full use of a computer since our move. If I try to use my dad's computer, it's not like I have extensive use of the thing. He's addicted to it, whether he's doing work or just wants to play his millionth game of Freecell. It is his domain. So if you're stealing a few moments on his laptop, he's like a dog trying to mark his territory. He hovers. He lurks. He'll eventually say, "I thought you were just checking your e-mail?"
Subtlety is not his forte.
3) I miss DVR. I am thrown back into a time when DVR/Tivo didn't exist, having to wait for my favorite shows to come on. And I don't like it.
4) Water pressure is a glorious thing. My parents' house is 40 years old and the plumbing system reflects that. C and I like to take showers together and we have been deprived of our showering sessions for over a month now. Not because it's my parents' house, but because it is damn near impossible to share that trickle of water they call a shower and adequately bathe yourself. There has to be at least a month's worth of product buildup sitting on my head now. Dreadlocks for me are just one miserable shower away.
5) My mother's cooking. God bless her. I love her cooking, I grew up on this stuff. But my arteries are taking a hit. A meal is not a meal in their home unless it's got some measure of trans-fat or complex carbohydrates in it.
6) Deers scare the shit out of me. Somewhere in the past ten years, I forgot that I used to run after the deers that populate the area and delight in watching them run away, because I was an evil little kid. Now, when I see them while walking the dogs, I have this vision of a crazed papa deer sending my body rocketing off into the trees Bambi-style.
7) Living out of a suitcase is not fun. When I was in college, I used to have visions of myself as this Drew-Barrymore type that would gallavant around the country on road trips, meet interesting people in different towns, and maximize my wardrobe from two pairs of jeans and cute t-shirts I picked up as part of my travels. Having tried to cull together outfits out of the one suitcase I designated as my wardrobe during this move, with everything else packed away, I now know the truth.
I'm getting old. I want the creature comforts of my home. I want a routine and to be able to pick my clothes out of a dresser that has been purchased from Room & Board or Sundance Catalog or some other corporate monolith trying to masquerade as an indie design house. Pottery Barn just may also have to be a part of this equation.
8) I have inherited my inability to function in the first hours of the day from my mother. For the sake of our relationship, it is highly advisable we avoid each other until noon every day or I move out. Soon.
9) Despite his activity level and incredible work ethic, my dad is in fact becoming a senior citizen. This has been reiterated by his discovery that he can get two cups of coffee by recycling the coffee pods that my mother uses to make coffee. Never mind the fact that the second cup tastes like pondwater, he's saving money.
There you have it. Lessons learned, yes, yet they barely touch the tip of the iceberg of my experience in the last month or so. However, my dad will be waking up soon and you know what that means.
I really can't wait to move.
posted by Currin Girl at 8:22 AM
1 Comments:
Sounds like you've left the Shire and entered Mordor. Hang in there...it's bound to improve...at some point.
G.
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