Are you one of those recent(ish) college grads that the New York Times keeps talking about?*
Are you their loving-but-concerned/put-upon/angry/inexplicably-overjoyed parent?
Are you their intimacy-starved significant other who keeps getting thwarted by indignant (or even non-indignant) parents lurking around the corners of their own home?
Does boomerang mean more than just an L-shaped projectile to you?
Are you being forced to follow this blog out of common decency or simple capitulation of will after I harangued you to follow, even after listening to me harangue you 2 months before about how much I dislike blogs?
Yes, I thought so.
Welcome, all. Here's my story of moving back home--an account of the joys of older home (and dog) maintenance, all the pleasures of starting over, and the funny--here's for hoping--but ultimately mettle-building things that happen along the way.
*Also see this and this.
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