I can't believe it's the end of August already. Mostly I don't mind, since I'm beyond ready to put this chapter of my life behind me. I will always be grateful for my parents helping me and allowing me to live here while I rebuilt my health and a semblance of a sober life, but it's coming up on three years. That's a really long time to live in limbo, the pandemic definitely delayed me about an extra year since I wasn't applying for jobs until mid-2021, but three years is more time than I spent in grad school ffs.

I really don't know how my sister is okay with her situation. She hasn't lived on her own (as in signed a lease anywhere) since 2013, and basically bounces between here, our aunt's, and hotels if she's on a consulting job. Work dried up for her as well, but she doesn't seem too eager to get back into the working world, probably because she made some money in Bitcoin, but also because she doesn't pay rent. Nothing lights a fire under your ass more than actually owing money and not having the means to procure said money, as I have found out. I had savings, but it was mentally painful to breach that formerly pristine wall once unemployment ran out. 

But nine years of never having my own space and privacy would flat out drive me crazy. I guess for her the trade-off of no responsibility, chores, or money paid makes that worthwhile. I'm just waiting until I move out and she has to clean our (now her) bathroom - mom had a lady come in once a month pre-pandemic but since I moved here I've taken care of it, so she may have to pick up a sponge and toilet brush, and I will be laughing my ass off at her disgust. Especially after cleaning up after her for three years.