I have moved out and I'm living on another landmass from my parents. God, that makes dealing with Mum a lot easier.
By the end of the last year I lived there, I was having frequent yelling sessions and spending a lot of my time away from home. Be it in the city, with my boyfriend, or taking a trip to England, anywhere but home was my destination of choice. She had, and to some extent still has, a horrible habit of trying to run things for me and telling me things over and over. Example-
"I am aware that I need to do X. You told me this yesterday, the day before, and three times prior to now so far. You also tried to fill out the forms for X instead of me, and told me that I was doing it wrong when I was the one of the two of us who'd actually read the guidelines. Please. Go away and let me do *my* stuff *myself*. I am legally an adult, you keep reminding me of this, so treat me as such." This would then, with astonishing rapidity, descend into an argument and screaming match. Mediation was... difficult.
So... yes. No longer sharing the landmass with her. Go me.
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The noblest sentiment I have encountered and the most passionate political statement to stir my heart both belong to a fictional character. Why do we have no politicians as pure in their intent and determinedly joyous in their outlook as Arkady Bogdanov of Red Mars?
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