I seriously cannot take one more 4 hour drive to get on a plane, and then fly 4 hours. This has happened every 6 weeks for 2 years. I am DONE. I don't even unpack my toiletry kit, I just leave it in my bathroom ready to go. This flight is for my Dad's memorial. While I was packing, Tesla ate my black heel, and I being oh so fat, ripped the seam in the waist of my skirt. DONE. Can't wait for another 2 weeks in a hotel. OMG And Matt - well he is so much of a mess that I cannot even compose a message about him. I am tired, depressed, and DONE. Wish me luck at the infamous memorial on Sunday. I have a poem I will read - and yet all I can think about is how fat I will look. My dad hated fat on women. Whatever, that is a whole other thread.