The elves will take care of that

I live with my parents now, because I am lame.

C lives with his parents because he's gotta get experience that might someday lead to a job in his field.

I live with my parents because someone needs to take care of the cat. As I said, I'm lame.

The sad part is that they're pretty good as roommates. (Do you know the balls required to refer to your parents as roommates when you're living in their house?) The saddest part is that I'm beginning to figure out that living with them fostered all those quirks roommates have trouble coping with. For example: rocks. No one leaves rocks on the floor, in the washing machine, on the bathroom counter- except my family. Eventually, all flat surfaces will be tiny cairns. It's why we had to move out of our last house.

If I hadn't already used my superlative, I'd say that the most sad of all the sads was that I'm probably picking up new quirks as we speak.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have eight half finished cooking projects to finish- the point isn't the kimchi/apple butter/spaghetti sauce/tart/salsa/chili/muffins, it's leaving behind a kitchen filled with flotsam and at least eleven filthy pots and pans.

(I counted boiling the pasta as a project.)

(And I made two kinds of kimchi.)

(And some chicken.)

But the cat is very happy.