I'm a big, fat, bawling, slack-jawed baby.
I miss having a fully-stocked fridge and pantry.
I hate having to add up in my head how much it costs to buy cheese AND crackers.
I miss air-conditioning.
I hate having to grovel to property managers about broken ceiling fans.
I miss green garden beds and roses.
I hate stupid weeds and overgrown garden mess.
I miss my mom cooking three nights a week.
I hate having to organise my own meals every damn day.
I miss window locks and safety screens.
I hate worrying about thieves, rapists and murderers.
I miss my dog and my other cat.
I miss the swimming pool.
I miss having the internet and email at home.
I miss someone noticing if I'm too sick to get out of bed.
There are plenty of things I don't miss about living with my family. Notably, the extra 2 hours bus transport every day. But it's a massive adjustment, and sometimes I catch myself in the mindset that it's a temporary move, as if I'm on vacation somewhere alone and will end up back in the family home before long. Of course, that's not true, nor do I WANT it to be true.
I guess I'm just waiting for time to pass, and for it to seem normal/acceptable/okay that I am lacking all those things listed above. I know it will happen. Meantime I'm Cliche-Girl - keeping my chin determinedly up, soldiering on, hanging in there, waiting to exhale...