My house is in full blown chaos. The living room is filled with Rebekah's stuff from her apartment, with no place to put it until she moves into dorm. I rearranged the furniture in the den and no one likes it. Christopher is in the process of getting his room together after 10 years of filth, sitting unfinished (and will for another 10). I have ignored laundry for like a month. So, it is a royal mess. (God forbid Moma die, and people want to come by to pay respects! I'd have to meet them at the door. But I do have Cheryl and Dawn on stand-by if that were to happen) Anyway....I'm a touch grouchy. I know what I need to do. I realize what I should do. BUT I DON'T CARE about any of it. (Enter major rehab and detox-not from drugs, from the junk I eat that is poisoning my body)
I said all of that to say this: Moma and I are just tolerating each other. We have each made it clear that we don't really like each other at this juncture. She cusses. I cuss. She yells. I yell. She demands and I....do what she tells me to (and raise hell in my head!)
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