Broken Home(stay)

So mere hours after I posted my last entry on Sunday night, something awful happened. My host parents broke up and my father moved out. To at least protect their privacy a little, I'm going to leave out the details, but it was upsetting and dramatic and not mutual.

It was the first night I came back from the North and I felt like I had a pretty good handle on things, until I completely didn't at all. Of course, this makes for a better story. I was entirely planning on having a thoroughly boring, if happy, two last weeks. So much for that.

The first night I found out, I didn't really sleep and the next morning I found myself crying on the street. Although I'm really quite fond of my host family, it was always only a temporary arrangement. It is not really my grief. I'm moving out in a week and my life will continue on as it had, more or less.

The first complete draft of my research paper was due yesterday and I was focused on writing and trying to let my mother have her space. I haven't spent much time with her or done anything much to help. I washed the dishes once because I understand that just because the world ends, doesn't mean there aren't still dirty dishes. I'm hoping to bake for her this weekend. Any other ideas? They didn't prepare us for this during orientation.