09 March 2008

Home sweet fucking home.

I'm finally home after spending the weekend with my sister, visiting our aunt in Chicago. I say "finally" as if I was gone for much longer than about 48 hours. God, it felt like fucking forever. And I say "Chicago" as if we'd actually gone into the city instead of a variety of suburbs. I did see the skyline, though.

This trip was planned just a few days before The Great Canning of 2008. My aunt was on my ass to book our tickets and I'd been putting it off, but finally I gave in and purchased them about three days before I was let go. Awesome. So, I'd been dreading the trip because of the whole unemployment thing. Add to that the fact that I could have been house/cousin/dog sitting for a few days and would have made money doing that. My aunt was looking forward to us visiting and my sister wanted to go and everyone else was like, "Oh, you should really go." So, whatever. I fucking went.

I feel like a horrible person because I didn't really have a good time. What did we do? We went shopping. Let me tell you how much fun this is, first of all, for a person who doesn't have a job. It's even more fun when you don't have an income and you also hate, hate, HATE shopping. God, I hate it so much. Even when I have money, I don't like shopping. Of course, I do it when I have to do it. But in those situations, I have a plan. I know what I need and I've likely done a ton of research online so I don't have to fuck around at the stores when I get there.

And I actually even had money to shop this weekend. My aunt gave me birthday money. I should have gone with my original plan and blown it all right away at Sephora on Friday. But I went against my better judgment and decided to wait until Saturday. We went to a suburb with "a bunch of cute, little shops." That's code for "stores so crammed full of knick-knacky crap that you can barely move and will be gripped by claustrophobia constantly." I wanted to slit my wrists.

My sister said today, "Why didn't you say something?" What the fuck am I supposed to say? "Can we do something else? This sucks." The only proposed option was going to see some movie my aunt and sister wanted to see that I thought looked terrible. Gee, the possibilities were endless. And I did say I wanted to go to this used record shop (I could have spent the entire time and all of my birthday cash in there, no doubt), but it seemed no one heard me. Even though I said it more than once and said it quite loudly.

Again, whatever. The shopping sucked. My sister tried to be nice and told me I could watch basketball yesterday afternoon when we came home from shopping. That of course, made me feel horribly selfish. I was hungry the whole damn time I was there, because we only ate two meals each day. This is not good for me. I slept like ass on an air mattress. I say "slept" as if I actually slept. The freight trains running by all night and my ice-cold nose, fingers and feet actually prevented me from sleeping much at all. (This makes it sound as if my aunt lives in some shithole. This is not the case at all. She actually lives in a fancy-pants condo.)

But I'm home. My bed is here. There is food and it's nice and warm. I'm watching the Twins and college hoops. I'm all showered and I'm sure I'll feel much better after I take a little nap (early flight + springing forward = even fucking less sleep). Then, perhaps, I'll stop feeling like such a horrible, ungrateful fucking asshole.

4 comments:

Bethando said...

I know how it feels to finally be home from Chicago. Really, I do. :)

I'm Frank said...

I tell everyone I live in Chicago, even though I'm actually in one of those non-descript outer suburbs. If it wasn't for the professional sports teams and news stations, you could conceivably live here in the suburbs and not even know that Chicago existed.

Jess said...

It's probably the same with suburbs everywhere. I kinda felt like I was in Northern Virginia most of the time.

Christine said...

I hate visiting relatives sometimes, too. Air mattresses suck.

:)