What was I thinking?
I've been housesitting for the last... I don't know, almost a month. Two different places, four different animals, and all the solitude and quiet I can stand.
What the fuck was it I actually MISSED about being home? I've been here less than 24 hours (working on 18, actually), and I'm already counting the days until I get to go have a house to myself again.
As usual, it's not the adults that are at issue--or adults and "adult"--but rather the "adult" and her sterling lack of interest in having any god damn thing to do with the raising of her own fucking child.
All I want to do is half-listen to a show and write, and neither is going to happen because it's all PAY ATTENTION TO ME all the time. Because she doesn't get enough attention from the person who should be giving it to her and she's given up getting it for the most part.
blaaaaargle. All I wanna do is write Destiel smut to send anonymously to a random stranger (she asked for it, I promise. "Reblog if you want someone to send you anonymous ask-box smut" is what the post said, and she reblogged it. So I took her up on it, she loved it and asked for mooooore. Me, I like the ego-stroking, so of course I'm giving her more. *Ahem* That...sounded better in my head. Anyway.) and rewatch season 6 of Supernatural because I missed some really major plot-points.
And I can't even type this fucking rant without her demanding I tell her what the fuck I wrote down for her twenty minutes ago because she can't read and she's all the way across the room and I can't read them from here because I'm too near-sighted and and and
I need a fucking nap.
What the fuck was it I actually MISSED about being home? I've been here less than 24 hours (working on 18, actually), and I'm already counting the days until I get to go have a house to myself again.
As usual, it's not the adults that are at issue--or adults and "adult"--but rather the "adult" and her sterling lack of interest in having any god damn thing to do with the raising of her own fucking child.
All I want to do is half-listen to a show and write, and neither is going to happen because it's all PAY ATTENTION TO ME all the time. Because she doesn't get enough attention from the person who should be giving it to her and she's given up getting it for the most part.
blaaaaargle. All I wanna do is write Destiel smut to send anonymously to a random stranger (she asked for it, I promise. "Reblog if you want someone to send you anonymous ask-box smut" is what the post said, and she reblogged it. So I took her up on it, she loved it and asked for mooooore. Me, I like the ego-stroking, so of course I'm giving her more. *Ahem* That...sounded better in my head. Anyway.) and rewatch season 6 of Supernatural because I missed some really major plot-points.
And I can't even type this fucking rant without her demanding I tell her what the fuck I wrote down for her twenty minutes ago because she can't read and she's all the way across the room and I can't read them from here because I'm too near-sighted and and and
I need a fucking nap.