Ugh I'm so stupid...
Why is it that I can't ever be happy where I am? I've been bouning back and forth between Texas and Illinois for the past five years now and I'm never happy.
The last time I was content with where I was was 8th grade. Then we moved to Illinois for my freshman year and I wanted nothing more than to go back home to Texas.
High school ended and I went back to Texas for college and then I wanted to be back in Illinois because I missed my parents and friends and shit.
I moved back to Illinois to be closer to my parents and I was okay for a while. I hated the cold and the wacky ass weather but at least I was with my family. And then what do they do? Move back to Texas. I stayed in Illinois as some sort of late rebellion against the 'rents and within weeks regretted my decision. I missed my dad. I missed my mom. I missed my bratty ass little sister because she's the only one who gets my weird self.
So now here I am, back in Texas, and while I'm SO happy I'm not dealing with winter in Illinois... I MISS MY INDEPENDENCE DAMMIT. And yes I realize that I've never actually been 100% independent cause my dad always paid for half of my shit but at least there was over 1000 miles between us.
I had the illusion of independence.
This whole rant comes from my parents treating me like a child and then not understanding why I'm 23 and don't know how to be an adult.
I'VE NEVER HAD TO BE AN ADULT. I've been spoiled rotten my entire life. I've had everything I've ever wanted handed to me. I want a new car. I get a new car. I want a new MacBook. I get a new MacBook. And while I realize I sound like a absolute twat complaining about this, because I know I'm incredibly lucky, maybe my parents should've started to tell me no.
If they'd been telling me no, if they had been making me work for it, made me pay rent, for my car and car insurance, for my health insurance, maybe I wouldn't be in this boat of, um, not knowing how to. I have no idea how to be responsible with money or how to budget... They've crippled me. And I've told them to knock it off, and they do for a while, until I can't afford my bills and come crying (which I'm the one that needs to knock that off but old habits die hard) and they cave at my first tear. They really should say tough shit, figure it out. And I know I'd bitch and moan about it but at least it'd whip my ass into shape. At least I'd learn something.
Maybe if I didn't always get my way I wouldn't be 23 and stuck in a dead end job, going no where, that doesn't pay me enough to afford the things I have. So my parents pay for it instead of telling me to get a job that cuts it.
My treats me like I'm 12 fucking years old. I had to work at 11:30 this morning and it usually takes me about 30 minutes to get to work. I had my alarm set. I've never slept through my alarm because it's on the other side of my room so I have to get up out of bed and turn it off, so I don't just hit the snooze button and go back to sleep.
Still. My dad woke me up at 8 fucking oclock this morning asking "shouldn't you be getting ready for work?" When
?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?! WHAT?!
After I told him I didn't work until 11:30 and that I had my alarm set for 10 so I can by 11, he left... Only to come back 20 minutes later to ask me THE SAME DAMN QUESTION. "You really should be getting up..."
YES CAUSE IT TAKES ME THREE FUCKING HOURS TO GET READY FOR WORK. I don't even take that long to get ready when I'm going out and I'm, like, getting fancy and shit.
Did it escape his attention that I lived in another STATE and somehow managed to get up and get myself from Naperville to Chicago, ON THE EFFING TRAIN, all by myself?
And then he got pissy when I got annoyed that he'd woken me up for the fourth time. And he doesn't come in all quietly. No. He opens the door so loudly that it rips me from my dead sleep and makes me jump. He bellows from my doorway. If you're gonna yank me from slumber, at least be gentle about it, cripes.
So yeah... You might be sitting there going "what a whiny brat" but really I'm not. A whiny brat would be bitching about her parents expecting her to be an adult. I'm bitching about my parents being surprised that I don't know how to be an adult when they've treated me like a child for my entire life.
There is a difference, I promise.
The last time I was content with where I was was 8th grade. Then we moved to Illinois for my freshman year and I wanted nothing more than to go back home to Texas.
High school ended and I went back to Texas for college and then I wanted to be back in Illinois because I missed my parents and friends and shit.
I moved back to Illinois to be closer to my parents and I was okay for a while. I hated the cold and the wacky ass weather but at least I was with my family. And then what do they do? Move back to Texas. I stayed in Illinois as some sort of late rebellion against the 'rents and within weeks regretted my decision. I missed my dad. I missed my mom. I missed my bratty ass little sister because she's the only one who gets my weird self.
So now here I am, back in Texas, and while I'm SO happy I'm not dealing with winter in Illinois... I MISS MY INDEPENDENCE DAMMIT. And yes I realize that I've never actually been 100% independent cause my dad always paid for half of my shit but at least there was over 1000 miles between us.
I had the illusion of independence.
This whole rant comes from my parents treating me like a child and then not understanding why I'm 23 and don't know how to be an adult.
I'VE NEVER HAD TO BE AN ADULT. I've been spoiled rotten my entire life. I've had everything I've ever wanted handed to me. I want a new car. I get a new car. I want a new MacBook. I get a new MacBook. And while I realize I sound like a absolute twat complaining about this, because I know I'm incredibly lucky, maybe my parents should've started to tell me no.
If they'd been telling me no, if they had been making me work for it, made me pay rent, for my car and car insurance, for my health insurance, maybe I wouldn't be in this boat of, um, not knowing how to. I have no idea how to be responsible with money or how to budget... They've crippled me. And I've told them to knock it off, and they do for a while, until I can't afford my bills and come crying (which I'm the one that needs to knock that off but old habits die hard) and they cave at my first tear. They really should say tough shit, figure it out. And I know I'd bitch and moan about it but at least it'd whip my ass into shape. At least I'd learn something.
Maybe if I didn't always get my way I wouldn't be 23 and stuck in a dead end job, going no where, that doesn't pay me enough to afford the things I have. So my parents pay for it instead of telling me to get a job that cuts it.
My treats me like I'm 12 fucking years old. I had to work at 11:30 this morning and it usually takes me about 30 minutes to get to work. I had my alarm set. I've never slept through my alarm because it's on the other side of my room so I have to get up out of bed and turn it off, so I don't just hit the snooze button and go back to sleep.
Still. My dad woke me up at 8 fucking oclock this morning asking "shouldn't you be getting ready for work?" When
?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?! WHAT?!
After I told him I didn't work until 11:30 and that I had my alarm set for 10 so I can by 11, he left... Only to come back 20 minutes later to ask me THE SAME DAMN QUESTION. "You really should be getting up..."
YES CAUSE IT TAKES ME THREE FUCKING HOURS TO GET READY FOR WORK. I don't even take that long to get ready when I'm going out and I'm, like, getting fancy and shit.
Did it escape his attention that I lived in another STATE and somehow managed to get up and get myself from Naperville to Chicago, ON THE EFFING TRAIN, all by myself?
And then he got pissy when I got annoyed that he'd woken me up for the fourth time. And he doesn't come in all quietly. No. He opens the door so loudly that it rips me from my dead sleep and makes me jump. He bellows from my doorway. If you're gonna yank me from slumber, at least be gentle about it, cripes.
So yeah... You might be sitting there going "what a whiny brat" but really I'm not. A whiny brat would be bitching about her parents expecting her to be an adult. I'm bitching about my parents being surprised that I don't know how to be an adult when they've treated me like a child for my entire life.
There is a difference, I promise.