Hello insomnia, haven't seen you in a while.

There's a line in the Filter song 'Picture' that goes 'I feel like a newborn, kicking and screaming,' and for some reason that reminds me of the scene in Look Who's Talking where Kristy Alley (in her pre-Fat Actress days) has the baby, and the kid's all like 'Put me back in! Put me back in!' as he's being...ahem...taken out.

The gross, physically unpleasant aspect of such an idea notwithstanding, there's been a twinge of that feeling floating around in the back of my mind lately. Maybe it's the home-sickness talking, but the last few nights I've laid awake sort of pining for times in life that were much simpler, and along with that has come the feeling of 'well this has been fun, when do I get to go home?'.

In my two months in Washington, I've come to appreciate my life up until now much more. Living at home was so much easier. I was quite fortunate (some might say spoiled) in that I didn't have to worry about things like preparing food, doing laundry, paying bills, or much else, really, aside from doing the occasional dishes, mowing the grass every so often, and keeping my room clean. The other things just got done however they got done, with little, if any, input or effort on my part. And I was fine with that.

My first year of college was only slightly different in that I started having to handle my own laundry, save for the weekends when there wasn't a football game and I got to go home with a duffle bag full of dirty clothes. But thanks to the meal plan, my effort in obtaining food consisted of walking across the quad from Myers to Snelling, or on weekends, across Lumpkin Street to O-House.

Even after moving off campus and I had to purchase and prepare my own food, do my own laundry and pay the occasional bill, I was fortunate enough to come from a family that was financially able to bear that burden without me having to detract from school by having a job (which is probably the main reason I was able to graduate in four years flat even after changing my major my junior year.)

Well, needless to say things are slightly different now. I've taken a violent shove into the 'real world.' And as much as I like my job and the money that I get paid for doing it, there are certainly some aspects to being on my own that...well, pretty much suck. When I come home from work exhausted and hungry, who has to make dinner? Oh right...me. When I'm out of dress clothes for work, who has to do the laundry in my tiny-ass-takes-forever-to-wash-and-doesn't-dry-for-crap-and-makes-everything-all-wrinkly-combo-washer-dryer? Oh yeah...me again. Who has to do the dishes when I run out of silverware? What do you mean I can't buy that book AND get a desk this month? You get the point.

I've certainly gained more respect for my parents in knowing that they did all of this and managed to raise two children at the same time, and can now easily understand why it wasn't always rays of sunshine when they came home from work.

There's a Ben Folds song called 'Still Fighting It' that goes 'Everybody knows it sucks to grow up, but everybody does, the years go on and we're still fighting it...' And I suppose that could very well be what this is...just a guy growing up that doesn't necessarily want to, but doesn't have much of a choice at this point.

But there's another line in that Filter song that is perhaps even more applicable... 'Hey dad, what do you think about your son now?' Living in the Nation's capitol, two miles down the street from the President, managing not to starve to death, get shot, or end up evicted, and finance it all for at least two months...not bad for having never done it before, I suppose. And certainly not bad for a stuttering college kid from a small town in Georgia.