Moving nowhere fast

Jeffrey Preis: Entry level requested, above snoball purveyance

Craigslist has never looked as appealing as it does when you’ve had multiple years of uncomfortable (at times awkward) living situations. In the past two years, I’ve lived in less-than-cozy abodes and, for several months, slept on my friend’s couch to escape the uneasiness of one roommate.

And now I’m back in the Big Easy, where the livin’ remains easy, but with the caveat of unemployment. So, as a nod to my high-school days, I’m back in with my parents. And life parallels those high-school days when “50 cent night” was a bar filled with 16-year-olds and not an ode to making money. I digress.

While unemployment does not reap the benefits of monetary exchange, I do get to save my (imaginary) money by living in the comforts of my house. My roommates, or more formerly, Mom and Dad, are not the ones I thought I’d be living with at this point — but I constantly remind myself that this is more commonplace than it once was amongst twentysomethings.

While my expenses are minimal (zero) and my skin is constantly sun-kissed (lots of backyard pool time), I barely feel at ease in my own skin … no, house. I just don’t think I have to check in and out every time I walk through the door.

“Where are you going?”

“Nowhere” being a typical response. A concise answer on so many levels.

I haven’t had a normal living situation in years — that is, if ever. As my dad likes to say about my college years, “You call that living?”

I want my own place, free from parents and roommates’ giant dogs. But I’m not so bold as to say I wouldn’t miss the food at home — the always-packed fridge and fully stocked pantry bode well for those late-night cravings when it’s easy to find crustacean-filled pastas and already cooked protein to fill my carnivorous needs. Mother knows best.

In the same vein, I’ve learned that a Mother’s intuition only gets stronger the more time you spend around her. Can you really “sneak out” of the house when you’re 26?

But in actuality, I would not be where I am — comfortably typing this in my bed, well fed (and tanned) — without the love and support of my parents. They’ve given me more opportunities than I can remember, and allow me to write self-degrading articles for the enjoyment of others.