It has been three weeks since I was kicked out of my parents house. Normally, when you hear a statement like that you can assume that the subject is close to the age of eighteen or even younger, and your head conjures up all kinds of dysfunction inherent to the situation to allow parents to loose their youngling naked unto the world. I, however, am 26.
So what in the hell was I doing living with my parents? Addiction. Addiction, addiction; it doesn't matter what I was addicted to, for the animal has the same tenacity for destruction no matter the substance. It nearly killed me, but luckily I have loving parents who helped me rehabilitate myself. I didn't consider it living with them so much as I was taking a vacation away from chaos. Of course, parents being what they are, they also demanded that I follow a strict set of rules while I was in their house, not because of any immaturity on my part, but because the animal is so dangerous and requires constant vigilance. It is not however, a vigilance that can be kept by anyone but the addicted person. I lived there and I felt old, impotent and possessed with an amazingly large vacuum in the motivation department.
I am now at a point in my life where I am no longer addicted (yes, yes, I know that you're theoretically addicted for the rest of your life once you've been addicted) and have a thoroughly positive and hopeful outlook on life. They did not see it that way. When they found a bit of Valium in my room, things quickly came to a head. My head. I don't care how sick I was. I am too old to live by someone else's rules. And so I found myself ditching the backwater town of Fresno, California to return to my home of San Francisco.
Two days ago I was hired to do my dream job. No, I am not a rock star - I just have realistic dreams. I am the entire IT department for a hospitality company. I am also the graphic and web designer. I get to do it all; I have all the keys to the castle. Luckily, my pleasure with said situation is commensurate with my responsibility. The wall in my office is a window that looks out onto the bay, the company's yachts parked below me and the Bay Bridge spanning the breadth of my peripheral vision from end to end.
Life can suck balls sometimes, but it is entirely too beautiful when you use the low-times as a contrast to everything going exquisitely right. I have entrenched myself within cloud 9 and I'll be damned if I will ever let my vigilance fail. Thanks, god. I needed this.