Home Again

Settling in back in my own room is always a surreal experience. Partly it's because I don't really consider it my space no matter how familiar it is. It's also because my parents take random furniture out of my room to prop up TVs or additional desk space.

There's a new comforter that was put on my bed a year after I left, because the my old one apparently looked ratty and worn. I collects static electricity like a balloon rubbed on hair. It's like I'm lighting man or something when I get under the covers.