So, as I always do even though I hate myself every single time I do it and vow I'll never do it again, I took the 6 p.m. flight from California last night. You know, the one that gets into Chicago around midnight, and doesn't get me home until after 1 a.m. But last night's homecoming was even worse than usual, because the minute I walked into my
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I'm home again, and the smell is still here, and I'm screwing up my courage to go start digging through the place. Wish me corpses!
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I have to say, when I read "I knew that something had died here in the week I've been gone" I immediately went "NO OMG KITTIES?!", so I was relieved to see that next. Whew.
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Ugh. This is so gross. I have to go do it now. I don't wanna.
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