oh well.

Didn't quite make it here in time to get to 100 posts on my blogiversary. I am a bad blogger - but if you've been reading my ramblings for any amount of time, you already knew that. Oh well.

We're here at Mom's, and the place is disgusting, as usual. I mean, our apartment is bad, thanks mostly to me and my slovenly habits. But Mom takes having a houseful of crap to a whole new level. Johnny wouldn't even approach the door to the bedroom where we're sleeping until we moved a tottering stack of magazines from atop the computer box in front of the door (so placed because the cat has learned how to open that door on her own if we don't physically block her access to it). All Mom's plants are dead, there's cobwebs and creepy bugs everywhere, and we can't find where Mom might've left us any information on taking care of her RV (which we have come here to borrow for Bonnaroo). We're only guessing that the keys we've found are the RV keys - we'll try them out in the morning, and if they're not, we're fucked.

So yeah. Long day in a car, and then coming "home" to this. Mom is never allowed to leave her home for this long again, nor should she continue to be allowed to live alone. She needs to clean up, and you know if I'm saying this, it must be really bad.