Sometimes Being Brave is Stupid

I don't want to go home to a cold empty house. I don't want to sort through many days' worth of mail to pull out utility and medical bills. I don't want to curl up in my little corner of an enormous bed. I don't want to get up two hours later to just do laundry and wander through my five rooms (including the horrifyingly grotty kitchen and bathroom that will cost more to renovate than the house is worth). I really do think I'll just live here in the airport and buy new Seahawks t-shirts and super expensive Ex-Officio underwear as needed until they shut down my credit card. I don't want to be brave. It's just too fucking exhausting.