Nov. 21st, 2014

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On every trip home I've ever taken since 1998, the actual travelling portion of the trip has been a complete and total clusterfuck, due to my parents inability to act like adults. (also: bad luck, with things like my pilot not being allowed to fly because he hadn't slept that led to missed connections &c and iced over runways with no equipment on the ground that meant I got to spend the night in the atlanta airport.)

(I remember the trip where my mom wouldn't let me pack an extra book--I'd taken two doorstoppers with me and wanted three--and then I ended up finishing my last book ten minutes into my return flight.

And then we got a flat tire 75 miles from home, and got to wait for 4 hours with nothing to do for entertainment while AAA too their sweet time coming out. Because my mom was So Sure that I wouldn't finish my book.)

So THAT is why I'm a giant ball of stress about getting out to my folks' place on Monday.

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