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Womp.

We drove back yesterday. As with any time I'm away from a computer for more than fifteen seconds, my inbox blew up with all the things that need dealing with. None of them are catastrophic, but altogether they are overwhelming.

Last night, I couldn't sleep.

This morning, there is evidence that my mother was suffering from insomnia as well, because she has sent several angry emails "on my behalf." I do not have copies of these emails, nor do I know what she said, but I have the hurt feelings of their recipients in my inbox to sort out.

A quick text to mommy dearest resorted in, "It had to be done." I beg to differ, but approaching this as a conversation or a place for logic will only result in ragey feelings. Not cool, Mommy Dearest. Not cool.

Guys, I'm exhaustipated, a little sick from road food, and torn between hysterical tears and murderous rage.

Happy Tuesday. (Halp?!)

Illustration for article titled Womp.
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