My mother today in a perfectly ordinary car on the way to the pharmacy sighed and talked about their meant-to-be'ness.
My life, what is this, how is this, what?
Two more days of work. Two more days and I am free like the wind, or at least, more free, less homicidal. When this is over, oh man there will be an entry on my rage. Oh the rage. And the entry.
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