How is my summer going? Swimmingly, one might say.
At least, one might say that this Saturday when the neighborhood pool opens. I can't wait; swimming is one of the true joys of life, associated in my mind with all that is good from as far back as I can remember. Open expanses of clear water smile at me benignly, and I at them. I know what to do when I am inside a pool, perhaps more than I do when on solid ground.

Meanwhile, I'm working 6-8 hours a day for my parents. See, this one book project of my mom's never seems to go away. She finishes it, then shortly she is working on the next update. It is a tremendous mound of work each time. I can hardly imagine my life without this project of my mom's hanging over it. It's a tremendous relief never having to worry about a job, however. It's there, continually waiting to suck me in at $10/hr.

My mother informed me day before yesterday that I will definitely have to pay for my fourth year of college entirely by myself, what with six siblings behind me in line. A guaranteed job removes a lot of the stress on that account. What she said in addition, however, raises the tension level quite a bit.
"If you don't manage to save all the money," she said, "the worst that can happen is that you will take a year off and work for us to earn money. A year... or two."

A year... or two... working this patch of soil in exactly the same way I've done since I was 14. In this same town, with the same people I've lived among all my life - people who do not respect, but do tolerate, my family.

I can't explain my family. We live in a space cramped (yes, that is the right word) full of computers, books, kids, mess and noise. Siblings talk in fake English accents, and flash between several movie references in a single sentence. It's amazing how easily I slip back into this, like a loose piece of a jigsaw puzzle long gone missing, but triumphantly found, rather dusty, in the far corner. I feel about 12 years old.  ¶ 10:29 AM