Tuesday, April 22

The backyard. Wanna visit?

This is the last picture I'm told I'll receive until I jump across the States and welcome myself to our house. Man, he's mean. All I want to do is know EXACTLY where everything is so I'm not a freakin' stranger around my own possessions when I arrive. And he prefers to egg me on with little to no information as to the decorative status of our home. I was told to, "Get better and get here." Oh, right. Because it's quite simple to scream through the next few days that are my last in my office before boarding a tormenting cross-country flight to a State that has non-California weather all with a smile on my face? And have I mentioned I caught ANOTHER cold that's kicked my ass? Seriously. So much for being a beacon of health in my last days as a "Californian." But hey, this means I'm the culprit on the airplane that's going to be hacking up a lung. Maybe the seat next to be will be clear.

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