Rush rush rush ... rest

Today I drove all the way to USC and I am very much out of practice on freeway driving. I had a panic this morning because I could not find my iPod (which was, of course, hiding from me), and my mom and I had to be out the door to get to USC on time. I sat through two hours of talking about the knee surgery my mom's having (total knee replacement), and came home to repairmen letting in the cold and taking forever. How long does it take to replace a hot water heater, really? So I'm going to grab some food at some point, I stretched a work on canvas I did long ago for my mother, and am thinking about mounting a lot of my drawings and paintings here in California that I do like (I'm not particularly harsh). Alas, no money or materials so here I am, doing nothing, freezing in the not-balmy 53* farenheit SoCal winter, looking at presents for my hon which I have to wrap, thinking of cleaning my room, in short not doing much of anything. And I am okay with that, don't get me wrong: I've been pretty productive, all said and done. It's so strange being in my parents' house, sleeping in my loft-bed, not having my full-size office (i.e. my bed in Baltimore), being surrounded by trappings of so many summers spent half-here. The room is nice, don't get me wrong, it's sweet and homey, but it's no longer home. Funny thing is, no-where is. Not a person, not a thing, not a city, even.