Rooted, I used to think.

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Wednesday, Apr. 02, 2003 @ 10:21 pm

I got the internship.

I was so excited I called Mom and nearly hyperventilated over the phone, jumping up and down in my kitchen. Her respose: "Oh that's great honey, but are you sure that you really want this? Why DO you want to do this? Where is it again?"

I hear some commotion in the background.

She changes the subject: "Oh there's a parcel here from Quebec for you." Thankfully my passport had a safe journey to the Czech consulate.

Then I get passed off to my sister. "Congratulations," she says, "Now Dad is yelling at me how I never get jobs, how I need to move out and how I'm such a sloth."

All I wanted was someone to share my happy excitement.

Roots | Shoots