Utter Horror

I miss home.
It’s been years for me here and I really oh-so-do miss home.
However…

I realize that going back home means being once again the only child of two very loving (and controlling) miracle-making parents. I say miracle-making because they may be the last couple I know who are still going strong after over 20 years of marriage.. Which means, of course, that they are kind enough to be there to control my every move when I go back home.

I have not gone too wild, I must confess, in my long stay in the city of broken rooftops and ugly poodles. I have not done drugs and I have not tasted a non-virgin drink (although had the pleasure of tasting a non-virgin woman, I must admit). However, even if my wild days were not too wild, I will miss the freedom and being my own boss. Something silly like keeping my dishes in the sink overnight. Yes,  mother, it is your utter horror here, my life. No one to watch me not separating my whites and colors while doing laundry, and no one to remind me that having breakfast comes before a smoke.

I miss home.

But I will miss having my very own home even more.

So I’m guessing a few more years is not a bad thing after all 😀