Sunday, May 16, 2010

Kicked Out

Ahhhh life is a funny thing.

Take today. I started it like any other day. Woke up, got ready for worked. Bused there, arrived 10 minutes early like I always do, and worked away until my first break. I took out my phone an saw I had received a text message from my sister:

"Yo mom just said she wants to 'kick you out'. She wants you to live with dad... She's nuts."

I read this, and just felt tired; So... weary. So sick of this shit coming up. I phoned my dad to see if he had heard anything (which he hadn't) and phoned Rachel. She wasn't really sure what was going on. So I sat there on my break and stewed. I said I wasn't going to call her. I had work, and I wanted to focus on it and get through the day without being bothered. But I was so curious. What had I done to invoke her rage this time?

So, I called her.

And she was very pleasant at the beginning of the conversation. But I basically asked her "So what's the problem here? I heard you wanted to kick me out?" She asked where I'd heard that from, and I said that Rachel texted me. I immediately regretted ratting on Rachel, because I heard my mum say something harsh to her. Again, I asked what the problem was. She replied (sounding sickeningly innocent and cutesy) "Well, I just thought it would be fun if you went to live at dad's for awhile. Maybe you'll be clean there." Yes, ladies and gentleman. The entire reason she's doing this is because my room isn't clean. So I am 'kicked out'.

Let's begin.

Now, she came into my room after the wedding last night and made another comment about it. I joked around, she laughed, and said goodnight. Now, in the past, I'll admit I haven't been very tidy. And I was going to see to the room either today after I'd gotten home from work or tomorrow. But to kick someone out because they're fucking room is messy? First of, it's not just my room. Okay, my stuff does seem to occupy a large chunk of it, but it's not like Rachel can't vacuum or put away laundry. So why am I the only one getting trouble? Second, it's my room. Now, whenever I say this he shoots back "Yes, but it's my house." Okay. But it's my room. Are you ever in my room? Do you sleep there? No? Then shut the fuck up. I'm not 5 anymore, I can do whatever the fuck I like with my own space.

I don't know why I was the one that became her verbal punching bag, because I am the only one that does shit for her. Rachel and Peter (bless their little black hearts) are fucks. They walk in, eat all the food, and shout 'peace' as they're running out the door. I cook dinner, walk Macey, buy groceries, help her out with money, etc. Who was the only person who did anything for her on Mother's Day? Who was the only person who helped her make the wedding shower a success?

Oh shit, right. That was me.

She runs around spending money on fancy, frivolous things like the fine-dining experience she and her boyfriend went to ($100 per ticket; she paid for both), and I'm there in the end to help her buy half the groceries and chip in for wedding presents. She doesn't even work full-time for fuck's sake. And now that she told my dad he can stop giving her money for me (which he should have stopped doing 2 years ago) she's fucked. According to my sister, who I'm talking to on Facebook as I write this, my mother has already asked her if she could borrow some of her birthday money. Damn, that was fast. Also, she's reportedly "choked" that I didn't even speak to her while I was there to grab my stuff. But she did manage to say "Well, you're being awfully stubborn and quick about this, aren't you?", she quipped as she sat alone in the dark with her arms crossed like a petulant child.

Quick? Stubborn? Stubborn about what? Like, we didn't discuss anything. She didn't say "Alright, you can stay here if you want" and then I said "NO FUCKKKKK YYYYOUUUU". I did what she told me to do, with relatively no struggle. She wanted me out, so I left. And quick? Like, I was just going to go home after work and be like "Okay, everything is normal." Apparently, she wanted to discuss this with me once I got home. Funny thing is though, there are no 'discussions' with my mother. She points her finger and yells, I sit there pretending I'm somewhere else, she gets to feel like she did good, and I leave and continue to not give a flying fuck.

Whelp. It's pretty late now. Max and I are going to go see Iron Man 2 tomorrow. Then I have, believe it or not, a family dinner at my mom's house. Neato! An uncle of hers I've never met before is showing up: the infamous Uncle Donnie. Auntie Helen is going to be there, and I believe Heather and Jamie, as well as Jennifer and Ross. I'm bringing Max along so my mom can't corner me or whatever, I'll get free dinner, and then I'll run away to spend the night at Max's.

The only thing I'm sad about is poor Macey. I'm going to miss her.

Peace it.

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