As I sit here writing this blog post, I have the house to myself, I have a driver’s license, I have a car, and I have unblocked Internet access. These are the kinds of moments you dream about as a preteen, the ability to go anywhere and do anything you want. I could go out and get something to eat. I could drive to a friend’s house, or at least someone I can pretend is a friend. I could buy music or something off the Internet. I could root through the refrigerator for anything the rest of the family hasn’t gotten to yet. Why, I could even go for a walk.

So why is it that all I want to do is sit down and play video games?

Isn’t it great how we look forward to the days like this, where we can do whatever we want, and then we discover all we want to do is the same old stuff? Sometimes there are beautiful days you just want to sit inside for.

It makes me wonder what I’m missing out on. People will comment on the weather, IM me and say, “It’s a beautiful day!” and I feel a tinge of guilt. I’ve never worked out what you’re supposed to do on beautiful days. Where I live, it’s not worth a walk, and there’s not a whole lot to do outside. I guess I’d rather be writing. Then I let these beautiful days pass, knowing they’re rare and exciting, but I don’t know what to do with them in the first place.

When I’m down by Toms River, I know exactly what to do with them: Go for a walk on the boardwalk. If there was ever a time and a place where I could think best, it would be there. I’m still looking forward to taking a trip down there, alone, over the summer. Down there, freedom and beautiful days make sense. Stuck at home, I’d pass on both of them.

Anyway, I think Ratchet & Clank is calling my name.