Mom in the House

And, boy, will she hate my place. It's so disheveled right now, and I almost don't even care to clean it. She's coming up with my sister this afternoon (Saturday) and I'm so not enthusiastic about having to clean up. I'm already bummed about the logistical portion of moving. Feh. This is not the way I wanted to introduce her to my place - she has never been here in the 4 years that I've lived in this apartment. She said that a messy place is reflective of a state of confusion in the mind. I assured her that she was right. She only has the palest idea of the external depression I've been fighting because of my dissatisfaction at work. I haven't cooked in months, and my level of slobbery (yeah, I just made that up. Sue me) is at an all-time high. I'm a little (?!) frazzled, and in desperate need of a vacation. I need to just take a roll of garbage bags and throw shit away indiscriminately. And get a ton of sleep. I could soooo use a couple weeks nursing my mental health at some resort in Jamaica where I could just be me...