It is turning out to be a typical night in the Perkins house. Corinne is watching Brian play Super Mario Bros. on the Wii. Ethan is working on homework. Usually his homework is just practicing his violin, but occasionally he has math or reading/English to work on that he didn't finish in class. Writing is not his favorite thing, which is weird because he is articulate and has a pretty extensive vocabulary. Or maybe it's weird because I have high expectations for him. Maybe I want him to be something he's not, or something he isn't ready to be. It's hard to watch him struggle, especially since writing comes easier to me. I know it's like torture for him, but what other choice does he have? We aren't going to just let him give up.
I don't know what I intended to write tonight. It feels good to just type out some thoughts. There really isn't anyone I just "talk" to during the day, except Ethan. He and I talk on the way to school, we eat lunch together, and we talk on the way home after school. It's kind of nice going to the same school as Ethan, and I am enjoying the fact that he still likes spending time with me. No one else sits down and has a conversation with me during the day at work. No one comes around and just talks. I feel really isolated. Maybe that's why writing has become so appealing, even though I am writing just to myself.
I haven't come up with a real purpose for this blog. There must be a billion blogs in the world. This isn't something I am trying to make a living at. I just want to write. Maybe that is enough.
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