Yesterday I found out I’d be moving back to my old loft because my Nana’s gone away to see her other family, and we can all give up the dream here at chez Pettigrew. Today, I’m fully packed, even though I don’t need to be out for another week. Why? Because I want my life back!
Living with my father has made me realize a whole lot about myself, mostly that I cannot deal with others, family or not, if they don’t care about my views. I’ve literally been living off of hummus, toast and marmalade for what seems like forever and I’m fed up. Firstly because the effort just wasn’t there, but even more so because he’s my father and still wouldn’t make the effort. I can live with a day or two of straying from my diet (not in the sense that I stop being vegan, more so in the sense that I stop steaming kale) in order to not offend anyone, but weeks? Not my deal, not even possible, I have far too strict of a diet (which I do intentionally, not all vegans are as conscious as I am about having a very well rounded, perfectly balanced, diet) for me to be living on minimal fruits and vegetables. How does this man not have scurvy, really.
It’s also made me realize how much I appreciate my alone time, I love being alone. I suppose that’s anti-social of me, but I’ve grown used to living by my own rules, and creating my own oasis, and not having to worry about getting lactose poisoning. These are the simple pleasures which come with being me. I like to cook up a storm, sit around reading, and clean my house with only vinegar and baking soda. I like these things. Some people are dying to get out of their homes and into the real world, but I think that if you can’t sit with yourself for a moment, than you’re not going to be able for the real world either way.
Long and short of it, I’ll be glad to be back home tomorrow. Yet I’m still worried, because Greg’s been living there, and I hate Greg so much. He’s a meat-eating, pot smoking, under achiever who’s a leech on my father’s side. I think he’s ruined my oasis, not that I can’t get it back, but there has definitely been damage done. I’m pretty pissed that he stayed in my loft, really. I couldn’t say no because my father pays for it, but I was never asked if that was okay with me, he just kind of came over and never left. Had I been asked, I would have, most definitely, said no chance in hell.
I should get back to packing up my last few things and doing a clean sweep, maybe I’ll even have some super-nutritious toast (which is actually sprouted-7 grain, I picked it up. 6 grams of protein per 2 slices, not too shabby, right?). I’ll post next from my humble abode.
(First posted: 21/07/08)