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Tuesday. 5.15.07 5:03 pm
Why it is that I don't like to come home, or stay at my dad's.
They always seem to forget that her bitchiness is always either home or my dad's.
Waiting with work for me to do, but not any work that's really relevant to me, just shit she's been too "busy" (read: lazy) to do, so she waits for me to come home, and harps at me about it.
She's got months on top of months to get it done. She waits for me to come home, so she can harp at me about it. Why? I have no fucking clue. She's never always busy, most of her jobs constitute sitting and making sure people don't hurt themselves. She takes hours at a time off from her day job, to go gallivanting about town, whilst bitching 'ZOMG DON'T GO THAT WAY THEY MIGHT SEE MEE!"
Then why don't you just stay at work, and get some of your work that you "so desperately" need done finished?
She bitches that I'm always so rude/etc to her. She fails to realize that it's either because a) she won't shut up, b)she won't shut up about food, c) she won't shut up about weight, d) she won't shut up about exercise, e) she won't shut up about god, f) she won't shut up, g) she won't shut up, and h), SHE WON'T FUCKING SHUT UP!
I was in a shop, looking at a drink that I've become attached to, and normally pay 3 dollars for. The shop had it for 3.89, and in a flavor I've been wanting to try. I mention that I'd like to try the flavor, but wouldn't dare pay 3.89 for it. She then starts bitching about zomg blahblahblah, get it elsewhere, a legitimate concern, except elsewhere doesn't sell that flavor. I mention, regardless, I'd like to try it, just not for 3.89, and continue to look at it. At which point she starts seriously bitching that ZOMG IT'S FOUR DOLLARRZZZZD DON'T BUY IT GET IT ELSE WHAR!. I tell her that I'm *not* getting it for four dollars, and she accuses me of raising my voice. I walked away, because then I would have raised my voice.
We're in another shop, because they've got 3L jugs of water, 5/5 dollars. Pretty good deal, 15 cents cheaper than Wally's. I have a coupon for 3 dollars off of a tub of fiber pills, that had a 20% off sale in the store. Good idea, I have problems getting enough fiber. She instantly starts kvetching that I need to buy the "Weight Control" ones, and she's going to steal some. 1) If I want the weight control ones, I'll buy them. 2) You aren't stealing any of my fiber, clip your own coupon and buy it yourself. 3) The weight control one had sorbitol, a processed sugar. She's always telling me to stay away from "processed foods", but now she's telling me to get something that's pretty fake. "Well it's in everything" she says. I don't chew gum, and most things I buy DON'T have sorbitol. So she continues bitching that I need to get the weight loss ones, so she can steal some, and blahblahblahblahblah, the weight loss ones are better, blahblahblahblahblahblabhalh.
So I put them down and walked away. It wasn't worth it. If I want the weight control ones, then I will get them (I probably would have, if she weren't being such a god-forsaken cunt).
Of course, she "doesn't deserve this", because the way I treat her is SO horrible. Regardless of the fact that she's told me god hates me, I'm fat, god hates me, I'm fat, I'm going to hell, god hates me, and did I mention that I was fat? Oh, I'm also usually not allowed to make my own decisions, regardless of the fact that I'm 22.
I appreciate that she pays almost all of my bills, I do. But she doesn't have to be so fucking cunty about everything!
Of course, after whining that I treat her so horribly, she's giddy, because I found sea salt, and have a coupon for 90 cents off of her favorite mayo. They call me moody, because they annoy the fuck out of me, and I get grumbly, but here, Madame ZOMGURFATYOUTREATMEHORRIBLYIWASN'TEVERTHATBADTOYOUBLAHBLABHLAHBLAHLWABITCH is well within her right to change her moods at the flick of a switch.
They wonder why I hate coming home and try to stay away as much as possible.
My brother whines at me about everything, and won't ever STFU, but when I get annoyed with him and tell him to hush, I'm being "moody". He comes and whines that he doesn't know how to cook something, when there are directions on the package. THEN HE DOESN'T CLOSE THE DAMN PACKAGE, even though he hasn't used any of what's in it!
I wonder how the hell this family makes it when I'm not here. I come home, and I'm supposed to do EVERYTHING. Paint, file, cook, clean, shit that should be done regularly, but everyone seems to wait until I'm home from school so that I can do it.
On a ... sadder(? not so sadder? I don't know) note, our beloved BK-eating jowls-shaking friend has passed. I'm going to say it's the burgers every sunday at BK that did him in. I'm not sure if I should feel bad, or if I should sigh a sigh of relief that the world is less one tight-assed old white man who wants to tell me what to do.
Either way, CNN amused me: "Though paramedics tried to revive him at his office and en route to Lynchburg General Hospital, "Those very timely and very efficient and effective efforts were unsuccessful," Godwin said."
How can they be effective efforts if he died?
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