She accused me of not appreciating her hard work of tidying up for me and (in my head) I vowed to move out on April 1st—fifteen days shy of my 34th birthday.
My goal is now less than a month away. I’ve dreamt of this moment since I moved into the middle bedroom of this very apartment in May 2006. I had no choice. Much like the six million young adults who have moved back in with their parents, I had just finished school and had no job. I had nowhere to go but my mother’s bedroom, like a Boomerang Kid who has a higher degree but nowhere to don a business suit. All due to a down economy and expensive school loan payments I could not afford.
