I've spent the last two weeks trying to decide if I am adjusted to being back or not, and I am pretty sure that it's not the case. I find myself getting tired as the day draws to a close, not in the normal way but in the sense that my brain feels full and I don't really feel like talking much. My living situation doesn't exactly help me to move on in the way I would like, and not until August 20th will I really have a place to call home. It's nice to stay with my dad, given I haven't seen him for quite some time, but we are also two completely different people in a lot of respects. The main difference is in the way we keep house and no matter how much I straighten up, clean and keep my things in order - his apartment seems to explode with books and newspapers at every turn. I guess that is what happens when you live with a writer.
The couch is decent enough, and I have AC so I shouldn't and won't complain too much. It's just frustrating because I thought by this time I would be in my place, with my cats and my bed that I have missed so much. I feel like I am in such a standstill, waiting to move on but also not knowing what I am going to move on to. My whole life in Chicago has changed dramatically since I left, people and places I would normally visit don't seem to exist much anymore. There is a large void that when I thought I came back would be filled, but of course it hasn't.
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