So I’m going back “home” on Saturday. I still don’t know if it’s my home. I don’t live there anymore and when I go back it always feels a little strange. On the other hand I feel weird if I say it’s not my home. When people get married and have kids and have been out of their parents home for quite awhile, they don’t say “i’m going back home for a bit”. They usually say “I’m going to visit my parents”. So why don’t I feel comfortable saying “I’m going to visit my dad”? Maybe you need to be gone for a certain amount of time before it does not feel like home anymore. It hasn’t even been a year yet. Though my apartment is my home and feels like my home. Maybe I could say I live in Montreal but have a vacation home in Paris. Sounds pretty high class. Either way it’ll be nice to get away for awhile. It’ll be extremely nice to get away from my job for awhile. It’s starting to frustrate me a lot. Though there’s always a point in every job that I’ve had that I’ve felt like this. Just this time I’m slaving over some family and it’s starting to wear at my dignity. Life’s good though. Listening to some Bob Dylan, eating some chocolate cheesecake and getting ready to go have some drinks with the guys. I need a drink.