Funny having my dad here.
Funny getting home and seeing his shirts hanging by the window and have his Flex shampoo smell in the house as soon as I walk in. It's nice, though, don't get me wrong. Funny and nice. A pleasant difference in my routine.
And funny the way it is...I wrote about psychology the last post and missing it and all that...But during class I was not missing it at all, I actually missed my baby-students. I felt nauseous and uneasy with all the Buber talk, all the therapy talk. I felt sick when the professor went on and on about existential difficulties and impossibilites, corroborating all my recent soul-seeking and questioning.
So, go figure.