Boring life stuff.
I haven't told anybody how I'm doing lately. Bad me.
I'm grumpy, if that says anything. The time has been filled mostly with chores, dog baths, and fights with the parental units, oh and school.
It's finals week, finally! (Heh heh, writer's joke.) Anyway, the Econ test is take home, and open book. Yay. Thank the heavens. Our instructer crammed five last minuet chapters on us last night that are supposed to be covered in the final, and then handed us the test and told us to take it home and work on it. *eyeroll* I think it's completely fair, considering the lack of preparation we had for it. Accounting is going nicely too. I have a class tonight, and hopefully I can finish my end-quarter project tonight so I can skip Monday's class period.
The NaNo is coming along, but not as nicely as it was before. I'm feeling . . . weary in body and soul at this point and it's affecting my creativity. I wake up in a cold sweat from nightmares just about every night. The nightmares are usually about past events--the bullying at school--or events that I dread ever happening. (One of my dread dreams involves making some folks at our home church angry and getting excommunicated.) I wake in the morning cold, damp, and stiff. On top of it all, the chill and the achy stiffness doesn't go away. And I don't feel like I've slept at all. Mom and dad seem to think I need a larger dose of anti-depressants. (That rant will come later). I don't think so. It works just fine. I think what I really need is a life. I can't go anywhere or do anything because I spent my whole gas money check on my mother's trips back and forth to work (and possibly to a new boyfriend--sometimes when she gets home the car smells funny).
Anyway, all that aside, the parental fights usually involve my 'being negative' all the time. My best friend and my little sister both say they've seen a marked improvement in my attitude since I started the medicine, but my parents think it isn't doing anything. On the other hand, my sister says that she sees my negativity get worse when I'm exposed to my parents for long periods of time. My best friend says so too, and tells me she thinks my parents aren't good for me. I guess I agree with her, though I really don't like to hear it. I'm afraid to leave my two younger siblings alone with my parents. The 'adults' are negligent toward the kids a lot. If the television is running, the parents are clueless about what their two youngest are doing, saying, or needing. It frustrates me, because I've had to be responsible for the youngers for almost their entire lives. Both siblings agree with this. My youngest brother is ten, and he remembers my caring for him more often than his mother and father. The kids are also the excuse the parents give me when I ask for a night out or a visit to friends. "Well you know, the kids will be alone for X amount of time. You know I don't like that."
My sister's fifteen, for crying out loud, and the brother's ten. They need to grow up a little sometime, or they'll end up like me. Stuck at home with the emotional maturaty of a five year old.
That's another rant for another entry.
Time for chores. Riven out.
I'm grumpy, if that says anything. The time has been filled mostly with chores, dog baths, and fights with the parental units, oh and school.
It's finals week, finally! (Heh heh, writer's joke.) Anyway, the Econ test is take home, and open book. Yay. Thank the heavens. Our instructer crammed five last minuet chapters on us last night that are supposed to be covered in the final, and then handed us the test and told us to take it home and work on it. *eyeroll* I think it's completely fair, considering the lack of preparation we had for it. Accounting is going nicely too. I have a class tonight, and hopefully I can finish my end-quarter project tonight so I can skip Monday's class period.
The NaNo is coming along, but not as nicely as it was before. I'm feeling . . . weary in body and soul at this point and it's affecting my creativity. I wake up in a cold sweat from nightmares just about every night. The nightmares are usually about past events--the bullying at school--or events that I dread ever happening. (One of my dread dreams involves making some folks at our home church angry and getting excommunicated.) I wake in the morning cold, damp, and stiff. On top of it all, the chill and the achy stiffness doesn't go away. And I don't feel like I've slept at all. Mom and dad seem to think I need a larger dose of anti-depressants. (That rant will come later). I don't think so. It works just fine. I think what I really need is a life. I can't go anywhere or do anything because I spent my whole gas money check on my mother's trips back and forth to work (and possibly to a new boyfriend--sometimes when she gets home the car smells funny).
Anyway, all that aside, the parental fights usually involve my 'being negative' all the time. My best friend and my little sister both say they've seen a marked improvement in my attitude since I started the medicine, but my parents think it isn't doing anything. On the other hand, my sister says that she sees my negativity get worse when I'm exposed to my parents for long periods of time. My best friend says so too, and tells me she thinks my parents aren't good for me. I guess I agree with her, though I really don't like to hear it. I'm afraid to leave my two younger siblings alone with my parents. The 'adults' are negligent toward the kids a lot. If the television is running, the parents are clueless about what their two youngest are doing, saying, or needing. It frustrates me, because I've had to be responsible for the youngers for almost their entire lives. Both siblings agree with this. My youngest brother is ten, and he remembers my caring for him more often than his mother and father. The kids are also the excuse the parents give me when I ask for a night out or a visit to friends. "Well you know, the kids will be alone for X amount of time. You know I don't like that."
My sister's fifteen, for crying out loud, and the brother's ten. They need to grow up a little sometime, or they'll end up like me. Stuck at home with the emotional maturaty of a five year old.
That's another rant for another entry.
Time for chores. Riven out.