Some guys hold stress in their shoulders. My dad is one of those, so whenever he gets stressed out, a backrub can take care of that. My mother holds stress in her stomach. My dad has it easy on that one, because whenever my mom's freakin out, she feels sick.
Guess which one I take after?
I like moving. Hauling furniture and taking boxes back and forth, it's a nice workout. And generally doesn't happen that often, so that's a plus. A change of scenery is always welcome.
When I lived out west, I didn't worry about anything. The part that made that truly stupid was that I had entirely too much to worry about, and it got me into trouble. Lots of trouble. Moving back to Syracuse simplified everything. Everything. I moved back in with my parents, so I didn't even have to think about whether I was going out that night. Even when I moved out of the basement and into my weird little apartment it was still easy. Still surrounded by everyone I ever knew? Check. After my abysmal failure in the desert, I was surrounded by this massive safety net. Last fall semester was pretty tight - I could almost afford food. My parents pantry doubled as a Wegmans for 3 months. I almost bought my mom one of those aprons the employees always wear. I hadn't really thought about how close it's all been, and it recently began to sink in.
And now I'm queasy. This isn't helping, really. Why did I have to take after mom?
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