literally. i'm looking around my (mom's) house, noticing the pile of dishes by the sink, the dog hair on the floor, and the armchair chock to the brim with clean but unfolded clothes. some of the dishes are mine, some of the clothes are mine, the dog hair does not belong to me because i have no dog. i kind of have a headache and haven't slept much this week, and can't even take a nap because i've smoked too many cigarettes and drank too much tea today. i can't help but feel that i'm deliberately wasting time, but i really don't feel like contributing to the current state of this household. i stayed out last night and upon my arrival home again, i ask my sister if she wants to go to a local county park to swim, she doesn't. she asks how the party was last night, i say good (and yes, i stayed sober). she says, "you needa do the dishes, you haven't done them in days" truth be told though, nobody has done them in days, including her.
truth be told, nobody gives a fuck about this household. my mom comes home, has a mike's hard lemonade, and usually sits on the swinging bench outside and stares out into space. my sister does things around the house more than either my mother or myself, only to hear my mother complain about how she doesn't want to do "this" anymore, how she wants to live in her own house, without horses or dogs or kids. my little sister is seventeen. to me, this is understandable on my mother's part, she's had a hard ride. to the daughter and sister in me, this is incredibly brutal to not me, because i'm twenty, but more so to my little sister, because she's only going to be a junior this year and feels as if my mother is jumping ship, because she emotionally already has.
my mother also notices things and doesn't do them, but complains about how it's a personal smack on her that things get left undone. i work two jobs, and i frankly have about as much time to play mommy a my mother does. for instance, trash day is on monday. on either tuesday or wednesday, my mom says to me, "i can't believe that i have to ask you to do this, but the trash can is still by the road- you haven't noticed?" honestly, no, i hadn't noticed, but she obviously had. another brilliant example: my mom walks in five minutes ago, coming home from skydiving as a part of her birthday celebration. she gives me a brief blurb of her experience skydiving, starts to walk away, turns to me again, and says "hey, i have jello arms. could you bring in the cooler that's in my car? it can't stay out there". now maybe i'm a lazy piece of ungrateful shit, which yes, i am quite known for in this family and can admit this for myself, but damn, that woman seriously overplays the depressed burn-out card.
so, i don't want to do a damn thing, not even for myself at this point. do i expect them to get done because i notice that they haven't been? no. i have clothes to wash but they can wait. i have papers to print but can't because i don't have a printer, they can wait until wednesday when i can get to the library. maybe i'm wrong, and i'm sure that on some level that i am, but the dishes can wait as well, the dog hair can stay until my sister picks it up, and the mountain range of laundry sitting both on the chair in the living room and in front of the washing machine can wait as well. even if this house were cleaned top to bottom, right now, it would be trashed again within three days so i don't see the sense.
and fuck my life, my mom just fucking walked up to me again, asked me what i'm writing about, asks me if i've changed my hair color again, asks me if i fell off the wagon last night. she asks what's wrong, i tell her about the exchange between my sister and i, she replies "you can do the dishes". like, no-fucking-shit, mom. i tell her to look around and see if the dishes make any sort of a difference, and they do. i know this, but can't bring myself to care at the present moment. i also tell her that i'm not bringing in her cooler, she says that she knows, and that she's going to "jerk" the car insurance on the car that i've been driving, even though i pay for the insurance on the vehicle that i use.
clearly i'm a piece of shit and really should try to give a fuck, but i don't. and i'm sick of this, i'm ready to not have to deal with this every day, the nothing but whining from my sister, who, by the way, now wants to do something, and my mom's hollow threats to take away what i am paying for myself. my mom doesn't do me any favors except let me live here, for which i've been grateful in my early recovery, but the way she brings up my falling off the wagon every time i prefer to be left alone, the way she can't own up to raising her fourth and last without holding it against her, and her self-pity are seriously grinding my gears. i'm sure that my frustrations and and bitterness toward the situation are grinding her gears, but it's as if i'm the only dysfunctional person in a dysfunctional household. so, i'm gonna get out of the house again (because apparently last night's escapade wasn't enough for me,) and go see my grammy.
deuce.
truth be told, nobody gives a fuck about this household. my mom comes home, has a mike's hard lemonade, and usually sits on the swinging bench outside and stares out into space. my sister does things around the house more than either my mother or myself, only to hear my mother complain about how she doesn't want to do "this" anymore, how she wants to live in her own house, without horses or dogs or kids. my little sister is seventeen. to me, this is understandable on my mother's part, she's had a hard ride. to the daughter and sister in me, this is incredibly brutal to not me, because i'm twenty, but more so to my little sister, because she's only going to be a junior this year and feels as if my mother is jumping ship, because she emotionally already has.
my mother also notices things and doesn't do them, but complains about how it's a personal smack on her that things get left undone. i work two jobs, and i frankly have about as much time to play mommy a my mother does. for instance, trash day is on monday. on either tuesday or wednesday, my mom says to me, "i can't believe that i have to ask you to do this, but the trash can is still by the road- you haven't noticed?" honestly, no, i hadn't noticed, but she obviously had. another brilliant example: my mom walks in five minutes ago, coming home from skydiving as a part of her birthday celebration. she gives me a brief blurb of her experience skydiving, starts to walk away, turns to me again, and says "hey, i have jello arms. could you bring in the cooler that's in my car? it can't stay out there". now maybe i'm a lazy piece of ungrateful shit, which yes, i am quite known for in this family and can admit this for myself, but damn, that woman seriously overplays the depressed burn-out card.
so, i don't want to do a damn thing, not even for myself at this point. do i expect them to get done because i notice that they haven't been? no. i have clothes to wash but they can wait. i have papers to print but can't because i don't have a printer, they can wait until wednesday when i can get to the library. maybe i'm wrong, and i'm sure that on some level that i am, but the dishes can wait as well, the dog hair can stay until my sister picks it up, and the mountain range of laundry sitting both on the chair in the living room and in front of the washing machine can wait as well. even if this house were cleaned top to bottom, right now, it would be trashed again within three days so i don't see the sense.
and fuck my life, my mom just fucking walked up to me again, asked me what i'm writing about, asks me if i've changed my hair color again, asks me if i fell off the wagon last night. she asks what's wrong, i tell her about the exchange between my sister and i, she replies "you can do the dishes". like, no-fucking-shit, mom. i tell her to look around and see if the dishes make any sort of a difference, and they do. i know this, but can't bring myself to care at the present moment. i also tell her that i'm not bringing in her cooler, she says that she knows, and that she's going to "jerk" the car insurance on the car that i've been driving, even though i pay for the insurance on the vehicle that i use.
clearly i'm a piece of shit and really should try to give a fuck, but i don't. and i'm sick of this, i'm ready to not have to deal with this every day, the nothing but whining from my sister, who, by the way, now wants to do something, and my mom's hollow threats to take away what i am paying for myself. my mom doesn't do me any favors except let me live here, for which i've been grateful in my early recovery, but the way she brings up my falling off the wagon every time i prefer to be left alone, the way she can't own up to raising her fourth and last without holding it against her, and her self-pity are seriously grinding my gears. i'm sure that my frustrations and and bitterness toward the situation are grinding her gears, but it's as if i'm the only dysfunctional person in a dysfunctional household. so, i'm gonna get out of the house again (because apparently last night's escapade wasn't enough for me,) and go see my grammy.
deuce.
