I've decided that I am sick and tired of being responsible. I've been responsible since I was 4, and I am thrice-damned tired of it. I hate bills. I hate being dependant on money. I didn't decide that money should be used; nobody bloody asked me about it. I hate getting up at 0530 every morning, except on weekends when I can sleep in until 0600.
I hate errands. Errands suck. I hate laundry. And keeping my room clean. And ... worst of all ... I hate that I am COMPELLED to clean up my room.
I'm getting my nose pierced.
Buffy and Angel was the most irresponsible thing I've done lately. And now that it is over, I feel kind of ... lost. And I want to know how the final battle ended.
100wordspermin, please ... SOON! Fuck responsibility. I'll keep working, because I have to, but I don't have to be happy about it. Although I am still quite pleased with the job.
And in good news: our family sat down together after dinner last night and played Trivial Pursuit. AND ... it was Daddy's suggestion. He's becoming a bit more extroverted, which makes the rest of us very happy. Depression sucks. And I hate that my Daddy is having to deal with it, and especially that there is so little that I can do to fix it.
And in OMG news: Mother actually asked me to buy her cigarettes. I honestly cannot believe she had the nerve to ask that of me. I told her no, several times. I cannot ... grrrrrrrrrrr.
Now, to find An Ideal Husband ...