Away From Home

I love staying the weekend at my sister's house.  Just like I loved being up in Michigan by myself. Most of you may be thinking "Well, of course you like being away from your parents. Your 33 years old, for pities sake. You need to get away before they drive you into pulling a Dr. Scratchansniff." (Actually, you're probably not saying that since most of you probably don't know who Dr. Scratchansniff is. Although if that's the case, I'm very disappointed in you. Didn't any of you watch Animaniacs. He's the P-sychiatrist who pulls all his hair out the first time he deals with Yakko, Wakko, and Dot. Still not ringing any bells? Fine, just watch this clip. Challenge of the day...imagine my dad and Wakko in a room together and try not to laugh.)

But, that's not it. I love the fact that I can be away from my parents and still enjoy myself. I can remember that feeling of gut-wrenching dread the first night I had to spend away from my parents after coming home from the hospital. Most of you probably don't remember the first time you stayed away from home as a kid. (I know I don't *eyebrow wiggle*) It's nice to be able to sympathize with a 5-year old kid (like I'll ever actually need that talent, it's not something I feel the need to put on my resume, that's for sure), but it's nice not feeling that way anymore.  Every time I leave the house now, I feel the freedom of reduced worry/fear and more capable of handling whatever is thrown my way. I love that feeling.

“The only real prison is fear, and the only real freedom is freedom from fear”
― Aung San Suu Kyi