6 hours before lift-off. My brain has been fried since, like, two days ago:
Mom: Not a quadruple bypass, but a quintuple!
Me: Holy shit, how much is that?
Mom: ...5. (My daughter, the Greek minor).
Me: The doors still locked?
Mom: Nooo...I'm in the waiting room. (My daughter, college graduate--and yet to learn how to open a door).
Whatever, I'm stressed, I'm tired, and I just. Don't have time for intelligence.
Kiwi-land, here I come!