I’m back from the mountains and back in the ATL.  I have two big bags of laundry to put away and things should be back to normal (just bringing all your dirty laundry to your parents is a lot easier than packing).

Here is a visual metaphor to explain what it’s like at my parent’s place. It’s peaceful and serene but also sorta like grabbing a plastic oar to stoke a fire while headbanging to music that’s just out of range of the camera.


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