Going home is nice ...
return home and fight with her mother because both you and you're used to having your spaces and your independence is beautiful.
return home and tidy up their things, say try, because after all removals are past the car of your mother, where they stayed for over one week between the hairs of matilda, the entrance to the house of your mother, all beautifully boxed so that you risk having a stroke every morning in just watching and thinking ... "All I care is there, unparalleled physical problems and always between the hairs of Matilda ... clothes in particular are on the box infuse infuse, then you say ... "you're brutalized, depression is ... "No shit, is that I dress for 2 weeks with the same things as you see it ... beautiful!
return home and the fact of not working to devote more time to your loved ones ... all of which are far away ... ok, but there's Internet, that problem There ... nothing, nada, nothing, internet at home got crazy, does not work ..... what the fuck, nice shit!
One hopes for a change, which in its own way you can enjoy the break and who trusts in the great possibilities of the human mind. A kiss for you
workers around the world and not graphic.
A ferret.
