It's Like A Jungle SOMETIMES?

Here's the thing: my indvidiual life is great. I don't always like my job, but the people in my job like me. I'm in as good a shape as someone who doesn't work out ever besides walking and dancing can be. I'm interested in a couple of girls and more importantly a couple of girls are interested in me.

And yet, my family.

My dad's back to Pittsburgh because my uncle has cancer. (I'd be sadder but the last time I saw 98.3% of the family, I was 3.) He's going to be gone for two weeks. So my grandma's at my house. By which I mean my room. By which I mean my bed at night. The room already smells like her, and there's a reason you can't buy Grandma flavor on a little tree for your car. She's sitting in the computer chair listening to the oldies radio (THE BED IS RIGHT THERE), and the other computer chair is filled with her clothes. I'm writing this in a fucking stepstool. No, I'm not kidding for comedic effect. I got called twice on the way home from work, and when I did get to the house, everybody else in the family booked. I had work this weekend (all day yesterday, ridiculous early today, consecutive graduations) and I had to sleep on the side of her bed she doesn't use. And now that I'm off, I'm pretty much going to have to watch her, oh, about 18 hours a day and not sleep in my bed until the Fourth of July. Oh, and since I kicked in the big Father's Day gift I'm almost broke until Friday. Good luck with privacy. Good luck with having a life. Room? What room?

Please keep this paragraph in mind if I happen to go crazy during the next couple of weeks.

Only The Lonely Roy Orbison