The following reflection was written in 2003, when I was between 25 and 26 years old.
It was the weirdest thing in the world to come back home after my first year at college. It was as if I didn’t belong there. I think anyone who’s been to college can attest to that feeling. Both you and your parents have moved on, have moved on to the point where you’re no longer a member of the household. And then there you are crashing at their place for the summer. That’s basically all it is. You don’t belong at home anymore, but you can’t afford to be anywhere else.
To make matters worse, I don’t think it was too long before my Dad started reminding me of his promise that he was only going to pay for one year of school. It would be the ultimate kick in the balls if he let me experience so wonderful an experience, only to take it away from me just as I was growing accustomed to it. I think I always knew it was an idle threat, but it always worried me nevertheless.
What would I do with myself all summer? That was the question that plagued me. I had the band and I was keeping my job at Purity in Plaistow. I don’t know why I didn’t just transfer back to the Stop & Shop in Chelmsford, but whatever. I had the band and the job and I was finishing my comic book. There was a lot to look forward to.
There was no girl to spend the summer with though. That would’ve been the ultimate. There was no shortage of girls to pine over however. No shortage at all.