Weekend-er

The trouble with going home for the weekend is the ear-full of drama you're bound to be getting the moment you step on the welcome mat.

I've quietly sworn off anything that potentially might upset my blood pressure. I've been gradually striking off beef and pork from my diet (going cold-turkey isn't a wise decision, unless you want to go through the withdrawal symptoms and battle with the cravings), and it's no Amazing Race/Survivor/death-inducing reality show for me either. The only thing that gives me the heebie-jeebies nowadays is my grade in special commercial law. Yet somehow, the universe always conspires to upset any little plan i might have to detoxify daily life. Oi!

I guess it's the inevitable. You just have to be used to with all the quirks your family harbors. I wont go into details but let's just say my family is an opera-house running on Lipovitan. Eveyone wants to be in a musical. If you're hearing impaired, you might just qualify as a housemate.