I am living in the town where I grew up. Well, where I finished elementary school, survived junior high, made it out of high school more or less in one piece, went to college, got married, had a baby, got divorced, fell to pieces.
For the moment, I am staying with my parents. In my high school bedroom. Driving my kid around town in my Dad's giant suburban.
There is a lot that is seriously cracked about this situation. And I think things will ease up a bit after Boyfriend relocates and we get a real house of our own and into a daily routine that does not involve me asking my parents permission to go places.
I'm sure this is the case, however, I still don't know what to do about the radio.
It seems that no one in the radio industry here has discovered that the nineties are over. Every other damn son is some ballad that debuted sometime between 1995 and 1998. I swear.
I think this is adding to my anxiety. It is making me seriously angsty. And, well, more or less pissed off whenever I am in the car. Even music that I LIKE is making me nutty, because it just drives home that this is a place that I don't like filled with memories and people that I am not supposed to have to face everyday as a grown up. As someone's mother.
To make matters even more 'fun', I can't seem to go ANYWHERE without running into people that I know, or recognize, or vaguely dislike. Yesterday, I went to Nordstroms to by some eye creme because there is no humidity here and I'm starting to look old and the girl behind the counter was from my 9th grade French Class. I don't think she recognized me. She kept referring to me as Ma'am. Wha? Seriously? I got "Ma'am-d" by someone MY OWN AGE? That's hawt.
This morning, Daughter and I stopped for coffee on the way to pre-school and the girl behind us in line and I had shared a locker in 9th grade. Ugh. The girl behind the counter is good friends with a good friend of mine and used to date (or who knows is presently dating) the son of the former Lt. Governor who was the first campaign (for Governor) that I ever worked on.
My best friend in the whole world is back in town too. We are spending a significant amount of time watching videos on my parents' couch, driving around in our parents' vehicles, and trying to figure out our next moves.
I am feeling like a teenage mother. An angsty, angry, tired teenage mother who is living with her parents and still has to follow the rules, even as she is enforcing rules (that OH! Do her own parents break) for her own child.
No wonder the sales girl from french class was pushing the anti-aging serums. Ouch.