"Mother Breaks into Daughter's Apartment. Drugs Suspected!"

I am typing this post on my phone while sitting on the fold-out couch in AJ's apartment. Sweat is running down my face and it is once again hotter than hell in NYC. I am struggling to write, as my body aches. Apparently using my body as a battering-ram while breaking into AJ's apartment wasn't the cause of the debilitating disease that has crippled me, but more likely it is MS, or maybe I was poisoned. Yesterday I was pretty sure I had viral meningitis, but that's what you get for reading articles about Brad Pitt. I will drive home tomorrow but I don't really want to be "home", and I must admit the thought of being sick is a little attractive right now. Being taken care of. Just lying there while a really competent and compassionate person attends to your every need. Life is such a struggle here, which seems to be the theme of this particular visit. From hefting loads of laundry up and down five flights of stairs, to enduring two-hour middle-of-the-night subway rides home, to watching AJ run the gauntlet of men ogling and taunting her each time she steps out her door. It has been an exhausting trip. I wasn't expecting this. The key is still broken off in the door lock, AJ and I, when we are especially tired and broke, dream of being "kept women", and one thing we have learned is that doing mounds of laundry is a lot more tolerable if you run to the deli next to the laundromat and buy a few 40's between loads. Poor AJ! Where is this girl's mother?