I have always battled between the dichotomy of straight and narrow and rebelliousness.

On the one hand, I have followed the set path, and done what is expected of me.

On the other, I have done whatever has struck my fancy at the time.

As I am packing my belongings, I am thinking of this. It is interesting, to say the least, to pack, while totally s$%#faced.

Cindy is home.

I am not in any way, blaming my drunkenness on anyone but myself.

But with that said, Cindy and I got together tonight and recollected, while watching movies with her husband and parents. There were many, “But just one more.”

Uncle Lester gave me a ride home, and I reminded him what it is like to live without adult companionship…

And so, I take a break from boxing my belongings, and there are many backspaces as I mistype, and rethink what I have already typed.

Seems fitting.