Late Night...

If anything, the best thing about moving out will be not feeling like we're an imposition.
We can't sit in the basement all night. When we do it on the weekends it makes our back hurt, which makes us not able to sleep, which makes the weekend even worse. Tomorrow marks the two days of the week where we are relinquished to the cold basement, to sit in bed, for two days.

It's not perfect. We don't expect it to be. It will never be. We're lucky we have a place to live.

Maybe it's our own problem, that we feel like we shouldn't be sitting on this sofa, knowing they will never ask us to go to our room. The Mother will sleep. The Stepdad to his man-cave. (it's warmer out there anyway)...

It doesn't change the fact that we feel like we shouldn't be here, not wanting to be here. Just needing to be...somewhere else.

They walk in the door after a sport event they attended. It's Friday night. They ask if we' e talked to our Realtor. They left well after 7pm. Even if we did, what would have happened by now? It's just passive-aggressive behaviour, meant to make us feel...lord knows what they are trying to make us feel. We're feeling everything.

Like they think if we had a choice we'd still be here.

We're dying inside with no options.

Just more fun...