I'm home for the summer. Spent the weekend moving into a new room in the house. (Well, an old room. But not the room with poison air.) It's pretty much the size of a dorm room, which will be good for practicing organization in a way that can easily be ported to my living space next year.
My least favorite person isn't living here, and hopefully won't be at any point this summer.
Today, for the first time in like five years, I helped my father install carpets. His usual help was injured, and other usual backup help are all indisposed for various reasons I don't want to explain. In theme with everything about being home so far, it wasn't as bad as I had expected it to be.
Noticing how relieved I am right now that things are relatively okay, I'm realizing that I must have been absolutely terrified to come home. It's possible my vertigo episodes are anxiety related.