Not Going Home

I have a load that goes right by the house, but I don’t feel much like stopping. Mama put a note in my clothes bag that kind of upset me. It was more of the same, about me being snippy with her, and her wondering if I resented it that she didn’t move out, and on and on and on. If I go home today I’ll have to face all that. Hell, if I resent anything I resent having to deal with this melodrama all the time.
In a lot of ways it would be better for all of us if Mama were to move out. Actually, it would be better if Mara and I moved out. Neither one is really an option. Personally, I think Mama’s on her anti-depressants again. That’s the only time I can’t get along with her. That’s the only time she harasses me constantly and, because essentially a raw nerve waiting for an irritant, when I finally get annoyed and snap at her, the melodrama follows.
I should have thought of this earlier. This might have something to do with Mama’s medication.

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