Oh hey, so I'm home again.

It's fall break. I get a week off, over Thanksgiving, and I'm home again.

Maybe I shouldn't have had the coffee on the drive over, but between a meeting with a professor being more than lenient and helpful about the things I could do to not fail her class, the unfortunately-becoming-habitual pre-travel panic attack and then coming home and finding out that my dad had a rather worrisome fall yesterday after donating blood, I was about ready to sprint right out of my childhood home to gods know where to escape the pressure of fucking everything.

I really thought coming home would help. I've been here maybe four hours and I want to run away, and I'm realizing that this has been my feeling about both home and school since at least the middle of last semester. Every time I'm about to leave one place for the other, I get to a point where I can't stand physically being there at all, and then when I leave the itch sets in in the new place almost immediately after. I...do in fact know what all of this probably means, but have no clue what to do about it other than complain into cyberspace and hope nobody actually hears me.

...Wow this post was maudlin. Jesus.