Cut and Run

Staying at my parents' place for more than three days has proved to be a trying affair. Not that I don't appreciate the free food and the decent toilet facilities (see previous post), but it's beginning to feel like I'm slowly being suffocated here.

I think it may have something to do with the fact that I work entirely at home and so there's no need to go out other than to buy the newspapers. The high point in my day occurs early in the morning when I conclude after a little justification that I DO deserve another hour of sleep.

Also, because I am a BAD BAD student who spends more time watching sitcoms instead of working on my essays, my deadlines are all over me and images of doom and F grades flash into my mind every time I think of going out to enjoy myself. Stepping into a 7-11 makes me feel bad about shopping.

Oh, and I also have no money, having not been paid by any of my employers. In the cosmic state of things, this is possibly ironic, because I am always late myself (it's a bad idea to make conclusions about waking up an hour later when you're sleepy and not thinking too straight). I'd appreciate the irony if the irony wasn't starving the part of my brain that says "I Give a Fuck".

That's Je m'en fous for you.

In any case, all this is contributing to my feeling like I'm an animal stuck in a cage. It's a pretty comfy cage with good food and decent toilet facilities, but then again so's prison. And in prison you also get sex (though you might not like THAT so much) and exercise to give you vigger muscles and make you tougher (then maybe after that you'll start liking the sex), but you always never hear about people wanting to get in.

Sadly, mother has in the past few days been pressurizing me to move back in. She's gotten better in the past years, and instead of blatantly pointing out that Good Sons Stay At Home With Their Mothers, she instead makes snide remarks about how much money I could save, and how lonely it is at home sometimes when there's no one to talk to (Brother is severely anti-familial relations, sister seems to always having PMS). It doesn't help that the majority of my friends and social circle are Good Sons and Daughters and don't understand why I'm doing this.

And I know, I know that I should just conform to the Asian standard, be a Good Boy and stay at home, but... it feels wrong, somehow, to do that. Even though there were the bad days and it always seems like I have to iron shirts, it's nice to have to be the one to have to do it. Not to say that I enjoy having not enough money and having to live off bread and water for a week sometimes, but it's... so much more than sitting at home watching Friends and waiting for mother to come home with dinner.

I sometimes wonder if it's just my instinct to cut and run, run from my rather dysfunctional family (I'm willing to put mine up with good odds) and get away from the mess and responsibility of being an Asian Eldest Son (which means the parents are my job). I'd like to think otherwise, and that I'm as good a son as I can be given my circumstances, but if it means sacrificing my... (oh, the horror of cliches!) freedom I'm not sure if I shouldn't.

I hate most the fact that my father holds the high ground in this regard, but I know that if he'd had any choice in the matter in his day he'd have cut and run faster than I have, and tossed his belongings behind him and built a wall as well. My mother, whom I resemble more in temperament, is partly the reason I want to go. Mother would stay. She'd stay and stay and stay, no matter how bitter she became. And I don't want that to happen to me - cut the cord!

It's gotten me thinking exactly what kind of circumstances would get me to move back home to take care of my parents. And they look a little too close for comfort. It's always been a foregone conclusion I have that I can run as much as I like now, but I'll return (however reluctantly) should the need arise. It's a Duty to Your Family thing, one of the things my parents taught me well, though I'd much rather they'd taught me Be More Productive and Don't Watch So Much TV or How to Play the Piano instead.

You always read about those awful awful children who put their parents in nursing homes? People who live on Moral High Ground probably don't reside in Reality Lane, or at least find the rent pretty high.

In any case, utilising another Life Skill my parents taught me - Ignore the Problem Until the Last Minute, I'm putting the decision off till December. I already know what I'm going to do, but... we don't always know what happens in life, do we?