I'm a well read grad student who's bluntly honest about all things, although I try to be most honest about myself.
The working theory is that finance expected the very expensive apartment that my parents bought for themselves would be a wedding gift. So much face palm. My brother doesn't 'know how to break it to her' which means they've never had that talk. Where I was supposed to move in earlier.
This is not gonna go well.
Meanwhile, in another oh-no, I'm surrounded by... a tenth? A fifth? Of my comics. I'm about to hit Newbury to get boxes and bags and boards.