Sitting puffed out on a branch

I am home. I was surprised this morning at how excited I felt to be driving from my apartment to my house (around three miles away). To express my excitement, I came home and promptly woke Kristin up. As she groaned and hissed at me, I told her how excited I was to be back. She responded by threatening my life if I ever went into her rooms and opened the curtains again.

The washing machine is rumbling. I am not sure how many people do this (probably a lot of college students), but I just brought my dirty laundry home (I liked bringing dirty laundry home--since I live in Lubbock I've missed out on a lot of things in terms of going home that my friends have gotten to experience). The birds outside are sitting puffed on their branches. I love the windows in this house. Looking out the middle pane, I can see a fiery red and green tree hanging over the fence, with doves and sparrows perched on it's branches. Occasionally they swarm the ground. Looking out the left pane, the light is bold and brilliant. The right pane shows me a cheeto bag buried in the leaves.

The birds swarmed again. I hung up my laundry to drive, and coming back to work, I passed my dad's desk. On his desk was a book, and being pulled to books, I stopped and meandered over to it. It is called "Impossible Extinction: Natural Catastrophes and the Supremacy of the Microbial World." My dad is in Washington DC right now visiting my aunt, but I really want to ask him how the microbial world is "supreme".

"Tell me where you're from, and I'll tell you who you are."