I hate her.
May. 11th, 2004 07:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
azuriteI hate my mom, I hate spending money on her, I hate thinking of her, and YES, I BLAME HER FOR MY SISTER'S DEATH. She fucked up the only good thing in this family, and now we're not even a family anymore, and I know she doesn't give a damn.
I called her to ask if she was coming home after she did the laundry, but she said she was planning on going right to the supermarket with her BF and not include me at all. Which means more beer and less food that I would want to eat. Which means more starvation. Joy. Just what a depressed freak like me needs right now.
And then she goes and says that if I'm going to come, I can't get any junk food (hah, as if I really eat any anyways), because I'm not working anymore and I'm not bringing in any cash...
WTF!? I just hung up on her right there. I was silent, and in a state of shock. I still am, nearly on the verge of tears here. She called back and I tried to explain things to her, but it ended up as demi-shouting match. When I try to remain calm and mature, she whines and bitches; the same is true vice-versa. She uses her pathetic memory as an excuse to get her out of situations, as if it's some kind of rationalization.
I GOT FIRED.
It was not fun, I do not look upon the event as something uplifting and wonderful. And I certainly didn't want it rubbed in my face by my own money-grubbing mother. You'd think she'd know me better than that, and at least TRY to be a little sensitive, but NO, I guess that's too fucking much to ask.
I'm going to do anyway, because I'm fucking hungry and I want something I can actually eat. She's such a bitch, and I am so glad I am leaving. Again, I WILL NOT MISS HER AND HER SELFISH BITCHY WHINEY BLINDSIGHTED POT-SMOKING FREAK WAYS.
I called her to ask if she was coming home after she did the laundry, but she said she was planning on going right to the supermarket with her BF and not include me at all. Which means more beer and less food that I would want to eat. Which means more starvation. Joy. Just what a depressed freak like me needs right now.
And then she goes and says that if I'm going to come, I can't get any junk food (hah, as if I really eat any anyways), because I'm not working anymore and I'm not bringing in any cash...
WTF!? I just hung up on her right there. I was silent, and in a state of shock. I still am, nearly on the verge of tears here. She called back and I tried to explain things to her, but it ended up as demi-shouting match. When I try to remain calm and mature, she whines and bitches; the same is true vice-versa. She uses her pathetic memory as an excuse to get her out of situations, as if it's some kind of rationalization.
I GOT FIRED.
It was not fun, I do not look upon the event as something uplifting and wonderful. And I certainly didn't want it rubbed in my face by my own money-grubbing mother. You'd think she'd know me better than that, and at least TRY to be a little sensitive, but NO, I guess that's too fucking much to ask.
I'm going to do anyway, because I'm fucking hungry and I want something I can actually eat. She's such a bitch, and I am so glad I am leaving. Again, I WILL NOT MISS HER AND HER SELFISH BITCHY WHINEY BLINDSIGHTED POT-SMOKING FREAK WAYS.
