Preoccupied

Busy at home, busy at work, busy outside of work and home. Tired. Actually, fucking hurting - my back, neck, shoulders are still tight and aching from very physical stuff - not that kind of stuff - but nonetheless, stuff that is making me happy. My apartment is starting to look really good. Just in time for my sister and I to revisit the prospect of buying a house together - a duplex - one that happens to be about 2 or 3 houses down from where I live. It's sort of driving me crazy. I really kind of wanted to dig my heels in here, at this place. But I know I should consider at least looking at the house.

The thing that's honestly driving me a bit mad about it is that I feel like my sister is waiting for someone - me, perhaps - to get her going and motivated to move out of my parent's house - yeah, my parent's house. I'm the little sister, but in this situation, I feel like the big sister, and I don't want the responsibility. I can't really begin to get into the details about it, because I will start obsessing, right before bedtime, about how fucked up my family is.

I feel like burying my head in the sand. Part of me knows I have to be an adult and think about the future, as in real estate and homes that you own and things of that nature - and part of me wants to just hob-nob along one day at a time and see where I end up - with no investment and therefore nothing to lose, sort of.

I want too much and not enough. I want the inside of the kaleidoscope and the still, pale horizon of the Atlantic Ocean. I want the past and the future. I want big things built by small, honest actions.