2002-12-20
I want to go home.

I keep wanting to write a happy entry about being here. It just never quite happens. I'm not happy here visiting my family.

I moved thousands of miles away to get away from them after all, and now I'm here, in Georgia, in a boring small town, with no car, stuck at home with my family and all of their normal turmoil.

Meanwhile, the many things that I would have rather accomplished at home are needing me more than before. My dogsitter canceled because her mom had a heart attack. And my dog is ill. And I don't have the money for medical treatment. He is allergic to any dogfood with beef or corn, and I need to feed him only Lamb and Rice. He's got a tapeworm. He's got pinkeye. He needs me there to take care of him.

Meanwhile, instead of trying vainly to patch up the unpatchable relationship, destroyed by yours truly, I am out here in Georgia.

Meanwhile, instead of hunting for a technical job and calling my casting agency for an acting job, I am out here in Georgia.

Meanwhile, instead of assuming these responsibilities on my own, I'm dumping them on my friends, I am out here in Georgia.

You get the picture.

But my mom bought the airline tickets to take me out here, and I couldn't let her expenditure go to waste, even though I would have been much happier with the cash equivalent. Hell, I could use it to cure my dog.

I want to go home.

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