Boomerang Boy Freaking Me Out

Not that I'm complaining. Well, let's call it "venting."

 It's just that when our 23-year-old came home to have surgery and then planned get back into the groove of his chosen profession (designing and producing video games), we figured, "Great! We'll have our beloved son with us to take care of and then he'll get the hell out again! Except.

Well, he's all healed up real good now, but the powers-that-be aren't fulfilling their obligation and we're all pissed off about it. 

Now, this mini-adult is experienced, has a crap-load of amazing stuff on his resume (I can't understand half of it) and the "brainiacs" in charge of video companies haven't lined up making offers.

WTF? This is one talented person (who is currently sleeping in our living room) who would make a company proud to have him. He's ready, willing and able to travel, is a fantastic person (no, really, he is!) and if he doesn't get a job offer soon we might have to kill him. 

Just kidding. We love having him, except I've noticed that I'm using him as an excuse to procrastinate even more than usual (!) with my own writing assignments that actually pay. I'm inhibited on the phone. Don't want to talk too loud, even though I know he's sleeping so soundly nothing will wake up, except maybe the smell of blueberry pancakes.

And I like to check on what he's doing (which he hates) every so often. And the other "wonderful" part? My husband is also a work-from-home guy. Always here. Always wants.......not me. Sometimes, when I'm in the mood. There's no such thing as "not" in the mood for his species.

One good thing to which I am looking forward when school FINALLY starts. As a journalism professor at the University. Starting Friday. Not a day too soon.

I need them out! I realize I've become even crankier than usual and my typically loving manner has grown a tad, uh, surly.

Maybe it's just a phase that will  soon pass.

And maybe once I'm out of that phase, Boomerang Boy will be happily engaged in his new work and thrilled to be far, far away from the parental units he loves/hates. And the mood will once again become mutual. I'm giving that a "maybe."

Until then, enjoy your kids when they're little and don't take up so much damn space.