I wondered this morning how much it would take for me to afford to move out. I realize it would be an asinine thing to do simply because I could continue to stay with my parents and live for free, but I question whether or not it’s worth it. As stupid and ridiculous and cliche as it may sound, I feel like a prisoner in my own home. I enjoy every minute I have away from the house. Usually, the time I spend outside is with friends from CRU, although not this night, I’ll be spending with Leah and her Canadian friends who have come down for the weekend.

Basically, I’ve been having these dreams lately, both during the day and when I sleep, of living on my own or with friends in our own apartment. The indepenence and freedom I feel when I think about it is nearly enough to cause me to make the whole image come true. Get a job. Or get two jobs. Maybe. But… I just can’t. Although I get irritated to where there is nothing more I’d like to do than scream at the top of my lungs, I just can’t leave.

Believe me, if I were a thousandaire, then yeah… I would by flying away. Maybe someday soon.

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