Thomas Wolfe said You Can’t Go Home Again. Yet here I am, an author returning to my hometown. Hello, Golden Valley, Colorado! Well, I didn’t write any scathing stories about its citizens, so I don’t think they’ll run me out of town on a rail.
Anyway, I am back home, living on my parent's property. They’re graciously allowing me to live in the guest house rent-free (hooray), and I don’t have to sleep in the same bedroom I slept in when I was twelve. What did I think a writing degree from UC Davis was going to get me? I shouldn’t be surprised nobody was waiting at the door with my Nobel Prize For Literature. 
UGH, I need to get a grip. I’m glad I’m done with school. I want to do something different. I wanted to write stories. I wanted to have an adventure. So here I am, back in my family’s home and I have nothing exciting to do and nothing good to write about.
New plan – get a job. Any Job. Well, almost any job. I guess I could go to the newspaper. I’m not a journalist, but I certainly know how to edit. I might even be able to do some freelance editing, there are always writers looking for help online. Heck, I could do that while I work somewhere else. None of this is what I really want to do, but I need to start paying off student loans and I do not want to work for Mom & Dad. I will help them anytime they need me – but I do not want them to add me to their payroll. No pity jobs.
I’m gonna miss school. I’m gonna miss my roommate Greg. I’m going to miss the parties we had in the apartment… yeah, I’m gonna miss those a lot. I know me and Greg will always be close. Half my shit is still in our apartment. I got as much as my jeep could hold. It was hard enough pulling Rem in the horse trailer and all his stuff. I’ll have to make a trip back to get the rest. Maybe we’ll have one final party. A final farewell to the carefree student life.