The other day I was in JB HiFi talking to the sales representative about printers. He was discussing the wireless connectivity of printers and he was going on about how he connected to it easily at his house, well, his parents' house, he recently had to move back in and...
And as he was talking I felt a surge of empathy. I recently moved back in with my parents and I knew what he was going through. It's your home, but it's not really your home anymore, but you managed to mess up being an adult enough that your 'rents let you back in the nest.
I mean, it's hard, what with "the economy" and "being a Gen Y", a lot of people my age seem to be reluctant to leave the nest. It's like being on a treadmill. Or running around the block and ending up where you started. Or picking up a bottle of water and putting it back down again. I'm exercising a lot lately so my analogies are limited.
It's weird, when I lived out of home I always got confused about what to call "home". I'd tell people I'm at home and they'd go to my place and I'd have to apologise because "I meant my parents' place". And now that I actually live at home, I call it my parents' place.
I'm glad I have such supportive parents that have allowed me move back into their home when things got tough. I know being 26 and living at home is a bit lame, but knowing my family loves me and is willing to figuratively hold my hand until I'm ready to figuratively walk on my own two feet without training wheels swivelling around my own two ankles, well, that's slightly less lame.
Slightly.
