Plausible Deniability

Procrastination has won over my sense of responsibility yet again and along with it the hours of sleep I have been longing to have. Personally, I do not know what in the world is wrong with me. At night when I am supposed to be in deep slumber, I couldn't be more sober; then I would be groggy and irritable all day because of the lack of sleep.

Maybe I have lost my goody two shoes self to the pressure of college life. When I was in high school I was always the first one to finish projects and homework given by teachers primarily because I knew how to prioritize. Epiphany. So that was the missing part of the puzzle.

So, college. Nothing could ever compare to the sweet taste of freedom. You get energized by the recognition that finally you are out of your parents' watchful eyes. But when the adrenaline wears off and you are able to think clearly again, you realize how exasperatingly shallow you were.

As the only child of workaholic parents who left the house before I woke up and got in long after I had gone to sleep, I was used to not having them around. During summer vacation, I was shipped to an aunt's house in another city, only to be brutally criticized by my grandmother. She did not understand that I was still a child with less than perfect manners, less than perfect sense of responsibility and, albeit being a perfectionist, the least perfect among her granddaughters. It also appears that I have inherited the bitter feelings my mother has towards my grandmother.

But I had fun there, not knowing that there were other things involved. Things that I could not openly discuss for fear that one of my cousins might Google my name and find this article.

After some time, teenage me got tired of being bound by the impossibly strict rules. And so I rebelled. I did things that hurt my mom and dad so much I swore never to do them again. Because regardless of their shortcomings and mine, we are family.

So what is the point of this whole article? I have been jumping from one topic to another with accelerating vertigo. Well, this is just the obnoxious roundabout way my brain works. Or we could just say that I miss my mom and dad. Sure, I could have just wrote one sentence and spare you from reading that boring old story but my awkwardness and incompetence at expressing my innermost feelings got the better of me.

When I was little, I wanted to grow up faster because then I will be able to live by my own rules and not be fussed over all the time. It's actually ironic how now that I am old enough to handle myself, I miss being pampered and protected.

Sixteen days. That's how long I have to wait before my brain indulges in its much-needed break and the sickening feeling of homesickness can leave me alone for a little while because I will be with my family - I will be home.