destiny or slight delusion

i don't have to sleep on the couch anymore. now my sister sleeps there while my dad's at home. it's complicated but it works. i have my room back. it's not really in working order but it'll do. it's the same dark room with the same messy desk with the same overfilled bookcases and the same antique bed. just having my own room feels better. i'm never really alone but i can pretend. i don't even get to sleep without phone calls disturbing my dreams. i don't have a place where i'm truly alone. my room doesn't even have a lock.

in high school, i put a sheet up as a door between the two bookcases. a palace for even the most raciest harem girl. but it just didn't keep every one out. it was never just james pumpkin the guinea pig and me. it was sarah, mom, dad, dog, grandma, JP, and me all snuggled together like a camping trip where the only dry tent is mine. the sheet came down and i became a good listener instead. a converted game room right by the kitchen, good for late night snacking, was "my" room. the kitchen housed an alarm, some hippie beads over the main doorway. as soon as i heard them knock, i knew to be asleep or awake or productive. it was that easy. i would say about 3 times out of 5 if someone was going into the kitchen they were coming to see me. i'm just that popular around here.
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all my old posters are still on the walls. there's the giantThe Talented Mr. Ripley one from blockbuster and orangey Smashing Pumpkins one and a Jude Law calander from the year 2001 and the Tonight, Tonight one. i never bothered to take those down before i went to college. there's still the collage on my bullentin board of things that were important to me three years ago. it's all changed now. there's no ryan adams or white stripes or bright eyes or some other indie band out of Magnet. i grew up without my room. there's no reflection of how i am. i'm the only piece that doesn't belong anymore.
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strange man that hates vegetarians: "so what? you aren't going to be working at the desoto library in twenty years."
me: "i don't know. i will always have a home at the library."

then i saw it like a messed up preview: i'm library manager, i've gained weight, my hair is long and i hate men. this is not the way it's supposed to be. i'm supposed to be "still figuring it out in some slum neighborhood listening to music that's competing with the rap next door and driving a vespa, finally." or maybe, if i have to be a librarian, i'll at least be in boston. i think i could tolerate that.

it's so up in the air. i wish i could get the syllabus a bit early.

 
¶ 5:39 AM |