Unfortunately, I have realised I do have to let my mother come to stay. For one of two reasons, first, I am too kind to reject her via an email from my lawyer stating that  she should entirely relinquish her maternal role because she seems to be making a spectacular mess of the job description, and second, I need to her take some of my stuff back to Nelson to store while I am away.  (And I don’t have a lawyer).

Her pennace will be paying $5 in extra baggage fees when she flies back with a bulging suitcase of sentimental riffraff I can’t throw away and can’t take with me.

Gosh I sound cold, don’t I. But you don’t know my mother.

Coffee guy has moved on to yelling; “Hey Catwoman, come get your moccachino.” I get a few weird looks.

I’ve taken to wearing headphones at work. Not only do I not have to deal with anyone, I don’t even have to hear them.

Today I caught myself cutting out newspaper articles to send to my dad. Dear god, I’ve become my grandmother.