Hehru No Kaeru

Rough translation: Hell’s Return Home

I’m finally back home. I’ve spent a week with my head in the clouds, wallowing in laziness, gluttonous of fine restaurant meals, astounded by broadband internet speeds and spoiled by Spike’s company. It’s about time. My cats are giving me sarcastic slit-eyed gazes that beg the question, “Well, who the hell are you?” A pile of once-fresh laundry is now caked with the cat hair frosting of neglect. A pile of mail sits in my stead at the dinner table. Thank god my keys still fit the locks.

Why did it take me so long to return to my life? Well, the most convenient answer is: car trouble. Last Friday, my truck decided to stop in the middle of the street. Being about 3 miles from home, the street was in the suburbs. It took about 20 minutes for someone to stop and help me drag my dumpster-with-engine off the road. I walked home in the blazing sun. Dad came home, gave me a jump and bought me a new battery. I thought everything was “cool”.

A couple of days later, Fate chimed in with a “ha-ha”. On the way home from Spike’s I stopped for cigs. The truck wouldn’t start. In the city, not like in the suburbs, it only took 5 minutes to find assistance. A couple of guys in need of a couple of bucks push started my vehicle. I drove it back to Spike’s and called Daddy again. Since I couldn’t move my hunk of junk car, I removed the battery and took it to Checker to have it recharged. Checker said that PepBoys had sold my father a bum battery. So, I dragged the heavy-ass chunk of trash to the nearest PepBoys and demanded a replacement. They complied, I lugged the f*ing thing back to my truck and re-installed it. Deciding that it was wise to take advantage of the “we’re so sorry, here’s a free diagnostic” offer, I drove the crap pile back to the store. Turns out that the alternator was shot. Now, the ex-bastard supposedly replaced this thing a couple of years ago. But, who knows what really happened?! So, good ol’ Dad payed to have my alternator replaced and I’m back on the road again.

That was the convenient answer. The more subtle reason behind the delay is that I couldn’t find it in me to pry myself away from Spike. I’m most certain that I overstayed myself, contrary to Spike’s insistence that I was welcome. He’s way too kind to tell me that he’s sick of my company. “And you want to move in with this guy”, you say. Yes, I do. But, having only a small backpack to draw from is far different than having all my resources available. I’m sure my complection is suffering from lack of beauty products and proper cleansing.

I feel better now that I’ve left. I wonder at myself for having been so afraid to step away. It really isn’t all that bad. I was feeling bad about myself for allowing myself such luxury and freedom from responsibility. I was getting restless at not having my possessions close at hand. I missed my kitties. I missed my PSP. I was getting snippy with Spike for no reason. It’s good to take a break and it’s not as hard as it seemed. The poor guy is probably happy to have his space again. When we get together again, our love will be renewed and passionate all the more.

On the drive up Santa Fe, I was planning a new course of action. I was determined to improve my lifestyle, eat a better diet, be more productive, stop smoking, stop drinking, etc. But, I wasn’t home for 5 minutes before I had a brew in my hand and a smoke at my lips. So much for living better. My shower was nice. Having consistent water pressure and temperature is highly underrated! And I used my little scrubby thing to shluff off the dead skin and scum that built up. I took the time to shave all the important areas without being rushed. I missed home after all.