There's no place like home and I don't have one

I moved in with my sister on August 1. Into her basement to be exact. Beforehand, I idealized what this would be like, imagining taking my little nephew to the zoo and museum and parks to play. I thought my sister and I would have heart-to-heart talks over tea in the morning. I thought that all my friends in my hometown would be lining up to hang out with me.

None of this has happened. Instead, I have spent quite a bit of time by myself, reading, organizing and surfing the internet. My sister and her husband's household is usually in a state of chaos. Keys get lost, checking accounts are not balanced, meals are unplanned - causing my sister to visit the grocery store about 4 times a week. I get lots of mini-lectures about:

turning off lights,
turning off the outside water (after I do my chore of watering the plants and lawn daily),
making sure water doesn't seep into the loose floor tile in the bathroom,
making sure I rinse my recyclables before putting them in the bin,
not turning on the dehumidifier in the basement unless my brother-in-law thinks it should be,
and on
and on
and on.

I haven't committed any of the above infractions, but my sis and her husband sure have. And I don't say a thing.

Not to sound ungrateful, because I am happy not to be homeless.

But I am not happy about being treated like a 15 year old, and I don't like that the family eats everything I buy from the store (with my much-needed foodstamps), even when they know I bought the stuff. I also just miss having my own home, A HOME.

There really is no place like it.