parents

My parents are coming to visit me this weekend. This is not something that happens too often as to get here they need to travel hours through ice and snow to the airport and then catch a flight and a train and then not get lost at Gare du Nord. So, I am really looking forward to this weekend. At the same time it is the biggest source of stress and panic.

I am, at the moment, desperately trying to balance my time between school and work and hoping to get the 8^th day to my week and a 25^th hour to my day. Nobody has bothered to make these wishes to come true so one would think that scrubbing your apartment from top to bottom, in between all the other things is just silly. But that’s what I am doing at the moment.

I don’t know why parents always cause the same kind of a reaction. I know that they are coming here just to see me and spent a nice weekend. I shouldn’t really worry about whether my dad will like the way I’ve renovated my flat, or agrees with the fact that my green door added to the hole in the roof makes my entryway resemble a rainforest. Which I, personally think is pretty cool. I am also quite sure that whether I have dusted under the book shelf or not is not going to make any difference to my mum’s holiday. But still, the vacuum cleaner has visited that remote corner of my flat too.

Why is it so important to have your parents accepting your home, your friends, your school, your job…your lifestyle? Why is it so difficult to just be happy about them coming to see you? Why do you always have this additional stress?

Oh well, luckily I have a mad professor who is trying to divert my mind and stress levels elsewhere. But I really do hope that my mouse doesn’t come back - not this weekend.