I don't know if I will ever blog about this because Mom and her friends read my blog. But here is the news: I'm at my mom's house (crypt) packing her up to move to Florida with us. Its incredibly painful (indescribable) to be around these things...memories...horribly sad memories. Why am I always the good kid? She has 4. And to top it off, my mom doesn't own a coffee pot. I will be dead in 12 hours. Woe is me. Have a nice day.
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