It's been pretty calm, by which I mean, there's been little deliberate abuse. There's been plenty of agitation, from the moment I got in the car; mom feeds on it, can't turn it off. She doesn't know how not to be angry and doesn't want to. I managed to minimize the ranting during dinner, but there was still ranting. It's just what she does.
Meanwhile, I keep finding crap. As in, medicine that expired in 1985 that my parents nonetheless refuse to get rid of. I just don't understand how they can live like this, among the clutter (just like I don't understand why mom chooses to feed on anger). Obviously, I don't understand how people can watch Fox News. It's just. so. painful.
I guess it makes me appreciate my own (low-clutter, low-anger, minimal agitation) status quo that much more. I'm not OCD; my home isn't sterile or empty. But it's clean. And quiet--none of this loud TV in every room (which is not to say there's not music). And I'm not a saint, but I manage my anger and agitation. Otherwise I'd lose my mind.
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