House with relatives.

It happened a few months ago, in the spring. I was going through a rather strange transition in my life. I had just graduated, had no serious responsibilities yet, and suddenly had too much free time. I finished the semester ahead of everyone else, and while I was drowning in assignments, it seemed like a great idea. But as soon as school ended, I realized I had absolutely no idea what to do with myself. But I wasn't supposed to start working full-time until June, and most of my friends were still in classes or studying for finals. So I just drifted, feeling stuck somewhere between two stages of life. It was quite an unpleasant feeling. I constantly felt like I was wasting my time. I'm the kind of person who always needs something to do, so sitting around all day doing nothing and watching time go by was unbearable. I guess that's why I immediately said yes when my mom asked me to go to Uncle Rick's beach house. The building was simple: drive to Rehoboth Beach, check for any leaks or other damage, and do a few minor repairs around the house so Rick wouldn't have to hire a handyman. It wasn't that far, just over two hours. The house itself was quite large: every summer, it comfortably accommodates our entire, enormous family—probably 20, 25 people, no more, no less. We play board games and drink too much.
When I arrived, everything seemed normal. I went inside and started inspecting the faucets and the electrical panel for any problems, and surprisingly, everything was fine. I'd never been alone in this house before, which gave me a bit of a panic; it felt unusual to be alone in this house. As always in the summer, we were all in this house with the whole family, and everyone was a little tipsy except me. I hadn't had a drink today because I was driving tomorrow, and I didn't really want to. We played board games with the family and decided to stay up all night.

Your family is quite cheerful and kind, you really like to spend time at this dacha.