Synopsis:
melancholy and
bored.
A drizzly grey long weekend stretches before me and I have nothing to do. My life is empty. I don't have a clique to pal around with here in Toronto, and the few people I know have gone with their SO's to various cottages and tourist-worthy attractions stateside. I might node a few things, watch a video, play with my cat.
Was intending to go to the YMCA for a deep-water aquaerobics class but I woke up too late and besides I used to go just to keep my mother company but she can't go anymore because she's too sick. It depresses me to go alone and tell her pool buddies about her declining health. Hell, I guess I am depressed anyway. She's sleeping right now, as she does every afternoon, and my dad is reading the newspaper.
If I were in London I'd probably be hanging out with my friends at a pub, getting butterflies at the thought of going out dancing and all the possibilities therein. Or maybe we'd be in the Algarve which is actually where they all are right now, sitting on a topless beach, having a laugh, pulling our shirts on, drinking beer, and putting off going back to the sandy van to clean up and dress for dinner.
Or, if things had gone according to plan, I'd be unpacking my bags in Montreal, preparing for school to start again, seeing people I know and asking how their summer was. I deferred this term because last term I was so upset about being far away from my parents, who I thought needed me. The thought of selfishly living on my own and leading a lazy academic life didn't seem right if my mum only had a few months to live. But who knows how long it will be? She seems okay, but the doctor says "by Christmas". I hope I can go back to school in January, but I don't want my mum to die that soon. I'm wondering if I made the right decision.
Living with my parents in here Toronto can be dull and thankless. They don't really need for much except someone to do the chores, and although I carry out my duties smilingly this isn't what I'd envisioned for myself at this point in my life. They don't like it when I stay out late, I can't go anywhere overnight unless it's a trip outstation, and every time I come or go I have to report on my movements. I'm not used to this: I went to boarding school for the latter half of my teen years and then straight to university, and at that point my parents lived in another hemisphere and I was so free, free, free...
Now it's utterly different. We share a small apartment and get in each other's way. I am trying to forsake what I once found "exciting", for my own physical and mental well-being, and also to avoid my parents' ire, but I'm not adapting well. Living with my parents makes me regress. I really wish I knew more people in this city. I feel like a loser with no one to talk to and nothing to do. I could node some book or other but that seems like NFN, and I don't really want to resort to that just yet. E2 hasn't eaten my brain but I can see that it will, someday. I think I'll go rent a video now or maybe just back to bed. Toying with the thought of little blue pills. If this state of mind doesn't change pretty soon, I might just.