Down by the bay

Back to my home I dare not go.

Not because I'm afraid of whales with polka-dotted tails or bears combing their hair. I just hate the person I am when I am at home. I spent two fucking hours complaining to Elise, the last time I saw her, about how much I hate how I act at home, and almost the minute we get there *snap!* I'm that person. It's disgusting. And I'm in for a month of it. It took Elise being there for me to see the extremity of the situation. It was one of those ".... whoa" moments where you step back and realize how fucking retarded you are.

And I have to live in the basement for like, three weeks. I hate the basement- it's creepy down there. (No, I'm not being punished, it's just that our German exchange student is coming on the 29th of December and she's staying in my room.)

I'm going to be positive about it, though. I vow to not revert to CoMo Me, to not be afraid of the basement, and to not fuck up my time in Kansas City. So there.