My Life Is In Storage

As Frank Black says on his new release, Honeycomb*, My Life Is In Storage. And it kinda sucks. (My box life, not the album.)

So I've moved back home for a couple of months to save some dough for some surprises I have in store for the Fall. And let me tell you...when you're my age and you're back at home...it's trickier than ever.

Here are some of the problems associated with moving back in with the fam after you've been living a complete adult life for years:

• You immediately regress to the 16-year old rebel teen with attitude
• You don't have the convenience of curling up wherever you want with your laptop in a wi-fi environment
• You suffer from complete lack of inspiration; I mean TOTAL freakin' writer's block
• Relationships that have been mended over time teeter on the brink of destruction because everyone snaps back to the way they were when you were there before
• You try your damndest to eat healthy and stay on the "can of beans for dinner" diet you've been on, but are constantly tempted by all the junk food that stares you in the face daily (i.e. - Lucky Charms, Doritos, Ice Cream Sandwiches, Milano cookies, etc.)
• You discover that your siblings aren't as mature as you thought they were
• Rather than a quiet night at home, "me time" now consists of going anywhere but home
• You get looped in on the disciplinary actions directed towards the 18-year old you reside with, even though you're nine years older
• It takes serious bribery and payola just to get some internet time, unless you drive 18 hours to the nearest wi-fi coffee shop, because you live out in Siberia

The list goes on. I like to call it The Pink River of Slime. Fun times, my friends. Fun times.

*****

*Honeycomb is by far the best Americana release of the year so far. You need it.