Reality Gnaws

Whenever my parents go out their separate ways to attend to their social lives, which happens a lot, I am compelled to stay at home and babysit, or perhaps teen-sit, my brother. It used to be “brothers” but since our youngest died, I’ve been reduced to one charge which, although supposed to be easier, proves to be less entertaining and rewarding. No offense to my living brother—the one to whom I devote what-could-have-been-my-social-life who, by the way, hates me—well at least the “me” acting like a an older sister to him. Meanwhile, my other living younger brother who needs no babysitting—well, he works and, fortunately for him, he has a social life.

Lucky them who socialize!

Obviously, unlike them, I only have our house, the office and a few hours in school. When our house is crappy, I have the office or school. When both are pressure cookers, I have the house which is crappy.

Unlucky me.

Hallelujah for the internet where I can immerse myself into.

Fart! This is my absolute reality.

And, boy, it gnaws!