Sitting on the couch at my parent's house, I can see a leaf hovering outside the high windows that line the top of the 2-story room. I watched it for a minute in wonder last week before I realized that it isn't a magical leaf with strange hovering powers that other leaves envy; it's just stuck in a spider web.
I've seen that same leaf every morning while I am watching the last half of Dawson's Creek and the entirety of Judging Amy-my new morning ritual. I don't wake up early enough to catch the first hour and a half of Dawson, but it really doesn't matter. My last year of college, one of my roommates and I would watch both hours of reruns in between classes and while we ate our Caf food out of styrofoam containers. I think I've caught up on every episode now.
When Dawson's Creek was all the rage, my parents decided to move us out to the country, where we did not get the hormonely-charged programming that is the WB. So, I'm half a decade behind on having a crush on Joshua Jackson...but that's ok. Now that I'm almost 23, it's much more feasible to think that some day we will meet and fall in love. That could have never been reasonable when I was 16. But I digress...
So, this leaf has been stuck in what I assume is an abadoned web for at least a week...maybe longer. I had a stretch last week when I slept past 11 every day and felt guilty, so I skipped Amy and window-watching in order to spend my pre-lunchtime time unloading the dishwasher or vaccumming...or some other easily-noticed chore to prove to my mother that I had NOT slept the entire morning away. Not that she's insinuated that at all. She just gets up at 4:45 every morning and heads off to graduate school, while her recently diploma'd daughter sleeps through it all.
Ahem. The leaf. Yes, the leaf. So, this leaf has become my post modernist status symbol...with all the dark, emotional ANGST symbolism I thought I was finished with once I got out of college. Surprise, surprise. Massive instrospection and crippling self-esteem issues do not magically disappear when the flash goes off when they take your fuzzy, bad smile, half-closed eye, picture shaking hands with the president of the college, who had to practice saying your last name the day before so you wouldn't have to correct him in front of all those parents and family friends who paid a whopping $70,000 so that their son/daughter could go to his college, have this picture, and that piece of paper. At least, my parents didn't have to pay. Thank God for scholarships and high school English teachers who proof read your college application essays over and over again.
Did I mention I've managed to "misplace" my diploma? Yeah, I did. Brilliant, I know. Also, the aforementioned English teacher would have an absolute FIT over that last paragraph. Sorry, Mrs. S!
So anyway...the leaf. It's caught by a thread. It can still dangle and dance in the wind and hang high above the ground...but it can only go so far. That sticky tether keeps it suspended from it's natural destiny. It is different from the other leaves...it's not on the tree anymore, but it can't join it's peers lying on the ground either. It's in this indeterminable limbo.
Deep, huh? I know, I'm amazed by me, too. I know it's stupid to feel such failure at being back home. I know I should be relishing the fact that I can sleep all damn day long if I want to...or if such a thing was actually possible outside of college. I have almost no responsibilities and I have free reign over a stocked kitchen, a high techy satellite dish, and fast internet.
And to top it off...I actually have some place to go. I have a goal. I have a JOB waiting for me. I have an Adventure. And one that is totally deserving of a capitol A.
And yet...I don't like being here. I don't like waiting. I don't like what I feel like sitting in this house, day after day.
I do like good books on the discount rack at Hastings, though. And since I can't really do much about that other stuff, I might as well head back to the book. Especially since I'm probably going to be up another 4 hours. I may be back with more thoughts. For now, good night.