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Every weekend I go to Connie's. ...okay, I know, this is starting out to sound like a whine. But no, it's just a statement of fact. Every weekend I do go to Connie's. I want to. I practically insist on it, because she tells me not to bother coming down when she's working all weekend, even though she admits she'd miss me a lot if I didn't. Now, Connie has remarked on how I'm not generally all that depressed, too. And just today I think I realized what the deal is. With a lot of stuff. And it's obvious, but... it's confirmation. The scientist in me loves confirmation. You see... I can't stand my mother. All that time I would stay at work late, and how I stay there late now... part of the reason why my mood is so elevated when I'm gone for the weekend, and it's so far down when I am at home for the weekend... the reason I can't concentrate or have desires or ambitions when I'm here, why I can't think until late at night (when she goes to sleep)... it's all because of my mother. And now she's playing the injured party because I told her that even though it's Mother's Day weekend, I'm going to Connie's. "I'll be home Sunday morning," I told her. Her reply? "Don't hurry home on my account." Bite my ass. Part of it is that she wants me to help her work on the house, get it back in order. Everything is in total disarray because of some work that was done on it in the last couple weeks. I look at it like this: you depress me, the work that was done on the house was done at a time extremely inconvenient to me, I was never consulted, I work ten or twelve hour days a lot of the time and if I want a nice weekend with my girlfriend, then damn it, I'm going to take it. ...? ...I'm being selfish, aren't I? Oh, well. Tough. I found out today that you can't change the borders on I mean I've been working on this stuff at work that has a nice web-based front-end, a well-normalized database, it's well thought-out, flexible... and it turns out that I can't make the interface totally seamless without dropping my |