My mom drives in and drops me off at my connecting train. Lovely, right?
Yes, but it means suffering through her talking incessantly for 30 minutes straight. If she's not talking, she's singing. In case you were wondering, she can't sing. It drives me INSANE.
This morning she told me a girl I grew up with, who is no more than like 300 pounds had gastric bypass. She's 19. She's in the hospital screaming from the pain. Her heart rate isn't stabilized. It is SERIOUS.
Then she's like...why are you so tired?
What time do you get home? You don't go to bed right away?
I'm like...11pm...*answering reluctantly*
Well, why you gotta frown your face up? I'm just asking a question.
Ugh! Don't question me. If I'm tired, let me BE. Funny thing is...she knows all the projects on my plate. Idk maybe she thinks I sprinkle fairy dust and voila!
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