We have a surprise ending

We are working out in the living room.

Mom: So, how are you going to support yourself, as a writer?
A.: Mom, we're done.
Mom: How are we done?
A.: We've had this conversation and we're done.
Mom: Oh. I must have missed your response the first time around.
A.: The response is, I don't know.

Mom: How are your relationships at work?

You'll recall that when I left my last job, mom assumed/insisted that it was because I couldn't get along with people and had alienated everyone.

A.: My relationships at work are fine.
Mom: Fine?
A.: Very good.
Mom: Have you told anyone about your plans.
A.: Absolutely. In fact, I've asked for recommendations.
Mom: And?
A.: And my friends/coworkers have encouraged me.
Mom: Whom, exactly, did you tell?
A.: What kind of question is that? You don't know any of my coworkers?
Mom: How are you going to support yourself? Is the stipend sufficient?
A.: I DON'T KNOW.
Mom: You could have said that calmly.
A.: I've said it calmly ten times. The only way to get through to you is to raise my voice. Otherwise, you don't listen. You only listen when I yell.
Mom: I just have to wonder about these things.
A.: Mom, I don't know. I don't know if I'll get in. I don't know if I'll go. I don't know if I'll be able to rent out my house, and if so, for how much. I don't know, I'm trying not to think about it until the admissions decision comes down, and I would appreciate it if you wouldn't keep bringing it up.

At that point, I interrupted my workout to blog. Mom came over as I was blogging and gave me a hug.

Mom: Why do you have to go do this full-time? Can't you come home from work and write?
A.: I do come home from work and write. It only makes me want to write better and write more. I don't know how I'm going to finance my life, but I know I don't want to go on doing what I'm doing for much longer, or any variation of it.

[Pause.]

Mom: When it comes down to it, this is all very unstandard and original, and I respect you tremendously for it.