We were at it again (go figure) and I’ve decided that enough has been said.  Enough screaming and ranting.  I’ve moved out to a hotel.  If nothing else it’s quiet here.  Mum didn’t want me to leave, claiming that running away and avoiding things won’t make it any better.  She’s probably right.  Except I don’t think of it as running or avoiding.  I don’t see us agreeing to disagree and living peacefully unless we’re far, far away from each other.  That, and I don’t really see it as running away as much as I see it as closing a door (to a place I don’t want to return to) and opening a new one to walk through.  I’ll take my imagined traumas away.

I wish I could get a flight out of here but they are few and far between.  So, I’ll spend a few days in a hotel and catch my original flight home on Wednesday.  Maybe I’ll rent a car and explore the city.  At minimum perhaps I can get some work done on my paper.

I feel better.

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