My week in Hell

Well, it wasn't really hell and it wasn't really a week, but close enough. As those of you who read my blog may or may not have noticed, I've been less than active this last week. Well, there's a reason for that. I've been in California visiting my Nana. She's sick and has to go on Dialysis.

So, for the first time in years, my family decides that we need to take a road trip. The result: seventeen hours in a car with my parents, EACH WAY. And that's not exactly a trip ANYONE wants to take. What you have to understand is that my mother is crazy. I don't mean eccentric or wild. No, the woman is literally insane. Her diagnosis: my money would be menopause sprinkled in with a dash of undiagnosed Bipolar Disorder (Manic-Depression for my lay readers). All in all, it makes for a tasty crazy concoction. And then there's my dad. He's not crazy or insane, but he feeds off of my mom's crazy. They've been together for twenty-four years and their interactional pattern in pretty much set.

And then there's me, pretty normal, average gal (quite a feat considering my role models), well on my way to committing acts of murder. And it's not being cooped up in a car with them, no. And it's not sharing a hotel room with them. No, the reason for my homicidal rage was quite simply that they can't fucking drive! As you all well know, I have road rage issues, and when my parents decide to go 50 mph, in a 75 mph zone, I tend to get a teeny bit irritated. Like to the point where, as we're snailing through the Utah desert, I think to myself, "Huh, a person could drop off a couple bodies here and no one would be the wiser."

It was a comforting thought.

Later