Ow. OW. Fuuuuuuck.
Getting ready to go play FFXII because--even though I should probably check the mail--I messed up my ankle pretty bad yesterday and I can't do much else aside from sit. I hurt it en route from the house to the orthodontist, and then had to walk back to Southeast looking like a crazy drunk, probably. I remember I was in front of the airport, and I stopped probably six times before even walking past it. It felt like somebody had tried to saw off my foot and quit halfway through.
Even so, yesterday I could hobble around on it decently. Today? No such luck. I had to hop the distance to the computer on one foot. I looked like a retard. It was great. :B
I wish, like, mom would have mercy on me. I know she needs help, but she seems to also need me for every trivial thing in the world (from "come look at this dog on TV" to "Hey! Come here! ... Is it raining?"). She's the one who told me to not be up and about on my ankle, too.
I was hoping to wake up in time to talk to Dave before he went to bed (THAT DAMN NOCTURNE), but I guess my body decided to catch up on sleep. In bed at ten, up at ten. Twelve hours? I'm still tired. :|
Speaking of AIM, it's funny how I get angry if I see corresponding away messages between two people. Like, bitchy and grumbly and irritated. Common sense says, "You're overreacting. Shut up. :|," but the more emotional and fearful side of me is all like, "HOW DARE THEY BE ASLEEP AT THE SAME TIME THEY BETTER HOPE THEY'RE NOT NEAR EACH OTHER OR I'LL AFKAFDAGHAF."
Welcome to the mind of psycho girlfriend. All angry all the time.
Ummmmmm.
I had a nightmare last night. It was, like, me and Tika moved out of Middlesboro to some place down in Tennessee, and shared a place because we couldn't afford the rent otherwise. So, like, while we're there I hear mention that an old friend from high school lived nearby (I dunno who it was; I didn't recognize them when I woke up and thought about it. It was, like, randomly generated character #219), and on a day off from work I decided to go see him. Tika couldn't come, so I went on my own, and I find that his house is a rather nice looking house in a good, rich neighborhood.
But when I go inside, it's very dark and messy and scattered with action figures and video games comics, and it has a shag rug full of crumbs that hadn't been vaccuumed in forever. It looks like the entire house is just one, big dump. Then I find the friend, and he's in his room. And I get to talking to him and realize that he's basically become an obnoxious, awkward perv. Like, he keeps trying to grope me and I keep shoving him off, saying, "STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT."
So, he finally lets up after I shove him in the floor, and he starts talking normally. So we have a conversation. And then he just starts half-heartedly throwing things at me. Mostly CDs and DVDs. And I keep telling him, "Dude, stop it." And he laughs and tells me no. And I warn him that I'll leave if he doesn't stop. And he says I wouldn't. And he finally throws a game at me--it was some collector's edition--and I toss it back to him and tell him, stop. And I start on this tangent about how he's pathetic and that I'm not the same push over I used to be, and I will make him stop if he refuses to stop. That I'm not going to stand there and take it. That I'll leave. That I had the right mind to punch him in the face. That I won't take being abused anymore. I tell him to be good and be a respectable human being, or I'll leave and he'll never hear from me again.
And he thinks on this, and he smirks, and he picks up the game and he throws it at me again. So I take the disc, drop it on the ground, and stomp it. And he gets this horrified expression. And I tell him, "You try it again with another one, I'll break it too."
He considers for a while, and I can see he's thinking hard about something and I think he's considering throwing more shit at me. So, I tell him, "You know what, fuck you. I'm gone." And I leave. But as I leave, I notice that he's stood up and followed me. And he's holding something behind his back (he had been while he was in the floor, too, but I didn't think about it). I get out the door and start walking through the grass, and he's still following me. I don't know what's behind his back, so I take off running and lose him down the road. I see this house with people in the back yard and children inside, so I run to a side door (so he wouldn't see me on their front porch) and start beating on it.
And some little boy opens it, and I push him out of the way and turn and slam the door and lock it, and just start screaming at the top of my lungs, frantically, that I need help some crazy person is following me and call the police. And the adults, who were having a barbecue out back, come rushing in and asking me what's wrong.
And that's when I hear scraping at the door. Like, somebody is digging a sharp object into it on the other side. And he's just telling me that he's sorry, so sorry. If I just came out and talked to him that things would be okay. He promised. I won't get hurt, he promises. Just come outside and talk to him and things will be fine.
I woke up, like, crying. It wasn't fun. X_X
Even so, yesterday I could hobble around on it decently. Today? No such luck. I had to hop the distance to the computer on one foot. I looked like a retard. It was great. :B
I wish, like, mom would have mercy on me. I know she needs help, but she seems to also need me for every trivial thing in the world (from "come look at this dog on TV" to "Hey! Come here! ... Is it raining?"). She's the one who told me to not be up and about on my ankle, too.
I was hoping to wake up in time to talk to Dave before he went to bed (THAT DAMN NOCTURNE), but I guess my body decided to catch up on sleep. In bed at ten, up at ten. Twelve hours? I'm still tired. :|
Speaking of AIM, it's funny how I get angry if I see corresponding away messages between two people. Like, bitchy and grumbly and irritated. Common sense says, "You're overreacting. Shut up. :|," but the more emotional and fearful side of me is all like, "HOW DARE THEY BE ASLEEP AT THE SAME TIME THEY BETTER HOPE THEY'RE NOT NEAR EACH OTHER OR I'LL AFKAFDAGHAF."
Welcome to the mind of psycho girlfriend. All angry all the time.
Ummmmmm.
I had a nightmare last night. It was, like, me and Tika moved out of Middlesboro to some place down in Tennessee, and shared a place because we couldn't afford the rent otherwise. So, like, while we're there I hear mention that an old friend from high school lived nearby (I dunno who it was; I didn't recognize them when I woke up and thought about it. It was, like, randomly generated character #219), and on a day off from work I decided to go see him. Tika couldn't come, so I went on my own, and I find that his house is a rather nice looking house in a good, rich neighborhood.
But when I go inside, it's very dark and messy and scattered with action figures and video games comics, and it has a shag rug full of crumbs that hadn't been vaccuumed in forever. It looks like the entire house is just one, big dump. Then I find the friend, and he's in his room. And I get to talking to him and realize that he's basically become an obnoxious, awkward perv. Like, he keeps trying to grope me and I keep shoving him off, saying, "STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT."
So, he finally lets up after I shove him in the floor, and he starts talking normally. So we have a conversation. And then he just starts half-heartedly throwing things at me. Mostly CDs and DVDs. And I keep telling him, "Dude, stop it." And he laughs and tells me no. And I warn him that I'll leave if he doesn't stop. And he says I wouldn't. And he finally throws a game at me--it was some collector's edition--and I toss it back to him and tell him, stop. And I start on this tangent about how he's pathetic and that I'm not the same push over I used to be, and I will make him stop if he refuses to stop. That I'm not going to stand there and take it. That I'll leave. That I had the right mind to punch him in the face. That I won't take being abused anymore. I tell him to be good and be a respectable human being, or I'll leave and he'll never hear from me again.
And he thinks on this, and he smirks, and he picks up the game and he throws it at me again. So I take the disc, drop it on the ground, and stomp it. And he gets this horrified expression. And I tell him, "You try it again with another one, I'll break it too."
He considers for a while, and I can see he's thinking hard about something and I think he's considering throwing more shit at me. So, I tell him, "You know what, fuck you. I'm gone." And I leave. But as I leave, I notice that he's stood up and followed me. And he's holding something behind his back (he had been while he was in the floor, too, but I didn't think about it). I get out the door and start walking through the grass, and he's still following me. I don't know what's behind his back, so I take off running and lose him down the road. I see this house with people in the back yard and children inside, so I run to a side door (so he wouldn't see me on their front porch) and start beating on it.
And some little boy opens it, and I push him out of the way and turn and slam the door and lock it, and just start screaming at the top of my lungs, frantically, that I need help some crazy person is following me and call the police. And the adults, who were having a barbecue out back, come rushing in and asking me what's wrong.
And that's when I hear scraping at the door. Like, somebody is digging a sharp object into it on the other side. And he's just telling me that he's sorry, so sorry. If I just came out and talked to him that things would be okay. He promised. I won't get hurt, he promises. Just come outside and talk to him and things will be fine.
I woke up, like, crying. It wasn't fun. X_X