I Guess There is A Full Moon or Something

This pretty much sums up the last few weeks for me:

I am not writing right now. I can barely drag myself out of bed and pretend to function like a professional. I do so because otherwise my source of funding for wine will be jeopardized. Depressed does not = stupid.

There was a time in my life when this consumed me, I would just quit my job and any activities I was involved in and hibernate until I felt better. I can’t do that anymore, because I have inherited the title of Responsible Adult™ of this family.

Inheriting something just because a bunch of older people died, other than possibly gold bullion, is not all it is cracked up to be. It’s not like I wanted to be the matriarch so badly that I killed for it. I did not. And you know why? Because gold bullion was not part of the deal.

I would like to go on record as saying that I am tired of being the Responsible Adult™ of this family. Someone – anyone- else is welcome to this shackle mantel. I will be hibernating in Italy.

Maybe I will come back. But if not, I left all the internet passwords and somebody else can figure it out.


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