So many sounds, smells, sites, and not to mention thoughts surrounding me on all sides. The Fruited Plain is a quaint coffee shop/winery and attracts the biggest variety of people.
Whether it's the people sitting in the corner discovering new rubic cube solving tactics, high heeled and straight haired women enjoying their wine and night out, or simply a run down college student like me with their hair half up and a water bottle by their side frantically doing homework...it's sure to be a good time
--if not only good means for people-watching.
I'm hurriedly typing away on my computer in order to finish my paper due before break starts tomorrow. It's only a short 2-day plus weekend break, yet I feel as though it's Christmas Eve.
Reality has hit. I haven't lived in my house I call home for longer than a 6 week period since highschool. As the years have passed since then, my appreciate for family has grown--my heart aches to just Be. To be with the ones I've experienced life with--the ones who know me best. Perhaps writing my essay on home in the previously mentioned writing class has spurred these thoughts. I've realized that my home is not limited to a physical structure.
If home is where the heart is.
Well.
My family is my home.
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