I'm Stressed, No, Overwhelmed

My father had nothing to do. At least, that's what my youngest bro said. He painstakingly took video of the cats frolicking under the sun (my father that is, not my brother). He added music and texts. It came out quite grand, but of course none of his children were willing to admit it.

My mother ate more and more sweets, ignoring the fact that she's diabetic.

Maybe they're trying to combat stress.

Satria, my youngest bro, on the other hand, likes to make others feel stressed. His favorite pastime is to annoy Popox when Popox is sleeping. He likes to nag people with a few words in monotone. It works for everybody except me, 'cause I have the ultimate way to stop him from being annoying. Just tickle him.

My partner and I are going to Jakarta this weekend and I am stressed already. Or perhaps the appropriate word would be overwhelmed. There are so many things to pack! And I'm not a good packer like my father, who could slip thirty-three books in his luggage easily, and still be able to add many layers of clothings and Godknowswhatelse. I just put things randomly, trying to fit them. I usually succeed, but I'll encounter a problem called "unpacking". Then hells will break loose.