• I changed the mailing address for my bills to my new address today. I liked visiting my parents every week or two and having a few pieces of mail to pick up (I love mail, even bills!) because it made me feel like I still lived there. But on the flip side, now there’s a good chance that I’ll have mail when I go to my mailbox. Yesterday I didn’t even have a flyer to pick up. When I don’t have mail I feel lonely.
• I slept over at my parents’ house yesterday and I had to kick a brother out of my room. He insisted he sleeps there now but I insisted it was still my room. I find my statements on this matter grow weaker and weaker every time I’m there. My university degrees and the few pieces of art I have still hang on the walls though…I’ll try and stretch my stamp on the house for a while longer.
• I really don’t like having to kill bugs on my own. My sister was my professional bug killer when I lived at home, while I was the professional “hop onto my bed and squeal like a ninny”. I’m sure we both miss our roles. I have had to kill moths, spider-like things that hop and flies and I have not enjoyed it. But the thought that if I don’t act the miserable creature will continue to fly and crawl around my house makes me take action. Pretty soon I’ll be brandishing weapons of insect destruction like a pro.
• Before my parents bought their house, we used to tell my dad that the reason the town home we were living in was often messy was because there are six of us and just not enough space. We insisted that when we had a house of our own, it would be far cleaner. It wasn’t. I fooled myself into thinking that when I had a house of my own, I’d keep it spotless. I don’t. The one thing that I’ve always been particular about is not allowing smelly dishes to pile up so that remains, but I treat my house exactly like I treated my bedroom, and dread having surprise visitors.
• My brothers continue to act as if they don’t miss me (I like to envision them crying themselves to sleep weekly) but my sister, mom and dad make me feel missed every time I see them. I love it. When I slept over, one of my brothers was out late and I reverted to my old self, sending him text messages and calling him, trying to get a hold of him, then falling asleep, worried about his whereabouts. I love not feeling like I have to do this when I’m not staying at that house. I honestly don’t wonder if they’re out late when I’m at my place. That feeling is a gift.

Filed under: Family, Operation Home for Jummy by jummy