I'm so excited to go home after work today. Okay, I'm excited most days to leave work and go home. Or anywhere, really. But I've spent four nights away from home. I was just staying at my aunt and uncle's place out in the suburbs while they were out of town; watching the dogs and making sure my cousin didn't throw a kegger. It just seems like forever since I was home.
My apartment may not be everyone's idea of kick ass. Hell, it's not even really my idea of kick ass. I love it, though. I love the deck. I love the hardwood floors and high ceilings. I love my bed. I love it because it's home. And all my stuff is there.
I like the routine of my life, even if it is a routine and a sometimes boring one at that. But I don't ever really get bored with it. I'm not sure that makes sense.
I like taking the bus to work. I like coming home from work to fuck around for a while before I go to the gym. I like coming home from the gym and taking a shower before I have a drink and fuck around some more before it's time to go to bed. I like the little breaks from routine -- going to happy hour, seeing a band, going to my nephew's baseball game or skipping the gym to sit on the deck and read.
You know what? I like my life.