I fly home tomorrow.
When I say "home", I mean "the house that I live in but not in my bedroom because my evil older sister has manipulated my parents into making me let her use it for the 30 odd days that she's visiting".
It's not really "home". But at least it's my house. And at least it's not here. Jakarta gets claustrophobic after a few weeks. At least I'll be able to escape to friends if my family become unbearable.
Take care, friends. See you on the other side.