Grump

I'm cranky and PMSy. I feel like bitching about everything that's been pissing me off for the last week, but I'm not going to. I don't have the time to do all of that. Augh.

However, I am...
- sick of being treated like I'm 5 fucking years old.
- sick of having to pretend nothing's wrong.
- sick of not being allowed to express my opinion for fear of losing friends.
- sick of not being able to yell and scream at people.
- sick of not being able to yell and scream in general.
- sick of everything I say being taken the wrong way.
- sick of not having someone to talk to who won't be either:
--- a.) cutesy
--- b.) intentionally/unintentionally guilt-trip me.
--- c.) change the subject
- sick of having to pick and choose my words for fear or pissing people off.
- sick of having to watch the tone of my voice.
- sick of getting scolded for getting mad.
- sick of being the one who has to apologize.
- sick of stressing over stupid relationship-related crap
- sick of mosquitoes.
- sick of ________________________________.

The above is really to no one in particular. I just tend to pick out the worst in people when I'm PMSing. So eh. Take offense, don't take offense, I could care less right now.

In other news, I at one of the teachers' Three Chees Manicotti TV dinner at work today because, well, if the dumb bitches haven't taken it home after almost two weeks of school being out, then they don't really need it that badly. I did. I was hungry. So screw you, teachers.

I'm thinking about getting a printer with my check next week, after I pay off the cell phone. And then making an appointment to get my eyes checked and get NEW GLASSES by my next check. That's my goal for the summer. And I'm sure it's going to be horribly expensive, But I NEED new glasses, cause I've had these SAME EXACT FRAMES/LENSES since 7TH GRADE. 7th fucking grade. No wonder I look like a complete fuckwad. They're fucking huge and ugly and I hate them. And they've been bent at a weird angle for the last 5 years so they site crooked on my face. No wonder I think I'm hideous.

I shouldn't be talking about my personal appearance while I'm PMSing. Really. At least I've finally gotten comfortable with my body. Augh.

I'm also sick of people IMing me THE VERY INSTANT I LOG ONTO AIM. AUGH. Just give me a goddamn minute because you all know my computer is shit. Jeezus.

I've been having alot of dreams that take place at nachitor's place or in Canada in general and that have keeperofdreams, nachitor, sonofberkowitz and myself in them. Weird.

I want a vacation.

TJ took me out for Dairy Queen yesterday. I had a large chocolate chip cookie dough Blizzard. It was nummy.

I want it to be payday already.

I want my hair cut. Badly. Just to the middle of my back so I can actually wear it down and shit. And I need to get rid of the split ends. But TJ won't cut it for me. ;_;

Anyhow...

( Piccy of Nitro... )

( Quizzes! Memes! And Slander! Whee! )

Some are like customers, and some are like patients...

So I got a call from Bud around 5PM? 6PM? I don't remember. Telling me that my mom's out tricking. Lovely. Along with a bunch of other shit. So I take the long walk over to the north end of Warren (at least 30-45 minutes from my side of town) to see just what the fuck is up. Walking because TJ won't let me take the car because it's dealing with my mother. Fine, whatever, I need the exercise.

I didn't even want to tell TJ at first, because I knew what she'd say. And I didn't want to hear it. I know I'm stupid for even going over there. I've done it so many times that it's sick. And I don't know why I still do it. I really don't.

I was all ready to just blow up, had a whole speech planned out and then my mom goes off on god and shit. And then she tells me exactly why I'm there and everything.

I started crying.

I know, one day, I'm going to get a call or read in the paper about my mother being found dead somewhere. I know it. And she knows that what I'm afraid of. And I know there's nothing I can do about it. I know I can't prevent it. I know I can't do anything to keep her from what she's doing short of comitting her (which she did say she would go along with, if that's what I wanted). I know nothing I say will take her out of this shit she does every day. I don't really care if she's out getting high or tricking or whatever, she's her own person. She can do what she wants. But then she wonders why I won't come and stay with her or why I won't spend time with her? Fucking christ. And no matter what I try to do, even if she puts herself in rehab, she's still back out on the streets getting high within a month. I'm so fucking sick of it, but I can do nothing about it.

And I know if she were to die, the rest of my close biological family would fall apart. My grandma would follow suit not long after and my uncle would go insane or something. I couldn't handle that. I just...I couldn't. I'm not that strong. It's so hard to try to keep one family stable and then try to keep another, insanely chaotic family jsut as stable.

And...I just want someone to listen to me babble about this shit. I jsut want a shoulder to cry on and someone to comfort me and tell me that everything's going to be okay. But...there's no one who will do that here. Everyone has their own opinions and voices on the matter. None of them care that I'm completely lost in this whole situation. I...I don't know what to do. I cannot handle this thing without someone to help me, to support me in whatever stupid decisions I may make regarding this. Even if it's as trivial as walking across town just to see what's going on. I'm aware I can't fix it, I know that, but the least you could do is wish me good luck or something.

Anything.

When me and TJ came home she simply dropped me off at the apartment. She went...somewhere. Saying she couldn't comfort or help me and that she was going away. I don't know where she went and I don't know when she'll be back. But I'm sure by the time she returns I'll be back to normal, with the tear stains off of my face.




I feel so small and weak.