The more time I spend with my mother, the more convinced I become that I am "unconventional" (as she calls it), and that I may never get a college degree, or have any kind of intellectual work ethic. The more time I spend with my sister, sifting through piles of her undergraduate research papers, the more I resent that.
If you ask me (which you didn't) there are far, far worse things to be in life than "unconventional". Some would even go as far to say that few things are better.
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