Home again. "Home." I waffle between loathing this house now (how ugly the layout, the way the narrow clunky design seems to attract clutter and dirt) and crying over the plants I will leave, the bright windows I love, the memories here. I remember the day we moved in here. My friends helping me with the plants. Right now, the crows are yelling for breakfast. While I was gone, the neighbor has started feeding them - something I feel mixed about. I'm glad they're being fed. I'm glad it means she and her husband probably don't mind them sitting outside the house, screaming constantly, shitting on their cars. I'm glad to think someone will tend to them when I'm gone. But a little part of me - the worst, worst part of me - is slightly jealous. Isn't that ugly? 

I can see the neighbors - actually, both sets of them - saying goodbye to relatives who have clearly been visiting for Christmas. The last week of 2022. It feels like the Sunday evening of the year and I have the Sunday scaries. 

At least I'm going up to Harrisonburg with some friends for the day. I don't know that I feel social, but I guess I have to do something. I don't want to spend my week spinning my wheels.