My God, Mother's Gone Off The Deep End Again

My parents are leaving in a few days, and increasingly Mother is getting into a tizzy.  While I understand that I need to coordinate and organize all of their affairs while they're gone, there is so much shit to track that it's impossible for me to keep on top of it all.  And she's not only piling on the things I need to do, she's adding bureaucratic wrinkles that are getting pretty fucking insufferable.

I was delayed by a whole hour from going to the Pizza Luce Block Party in downtown Minneapolis because Mother wanted to discuss some things.  Again, I understand, but her talks about doing this and then doing that went long.  But then she went fucking crazy.  Whenever there is a violation letter regarding one of the real estate properties my parents own, she not only wants me to snap a photo and sent it to the property manager, she wants me to fucking write down on the letter the day and time I sent it.  The day is goddamn bad enough.  She wants me write down the motherfucking time.  I have half a mind to just write fucking midnight on every single one of those letters.

And then Mother brought up several paper grocery bags.  She then tells me that once I get through a bill, or a deposit, or an assessment or an insurance bill that I have to keep track of, I should throw them into a bag -- not just one bag, but one of at least four, designated according to whatever the fuck it is, I can't tell, because Mother is letting her goddamn OCD flag fly.  I kind of already had it with the writing down the time on the letter thing.  But after insisting I need to throw her books into a bad once I'm done with them, she then tells me that all insurance payments need to be written twice: Once on the bill stub, and once on this pocket-sized ledger Mother made for me, one for each of their dozens of properties.  Oh goddamn, I don't need to write it even once, but fucking twice?!?!?!

If I had started yelling at her right then and there for all the stupid bullshit she wants me to do just so I could "track" whatever it is I'm tracking, she would've blown her stack and reverted back to the raving bitch she was a couple months.  But there still is time for her to lose her temper ... or for me to lose mine.