T-Minus Ten Days

Periodically check Father's e-mail if perchance they purchased tickets to come home.  Did so at work yesterday.  Yep, they bought tickets.  And dammit, they said mid-August, but instead they're coming the end of the month.  What, you can't give me a month, or even two weeks?

Shit, man, all the stuff I wanted to do I can't do.  All my shit has to go back in storage, no time to sort through them.  Have to clean up the kitchen, and the living room.  Need to see if there is new stuff I have to move into storage, too.  And I have to do all this in ten -- well, now nine -- days.  Fuck all this.