The ceiling in my living room/bedroom came down. AGAIN. Those of you who've known me for a bit know about the 8-month ODYSSEY it took for me to move back into my room and to, you know, not sleep on the kitchen floor anymore.
Now there's another hole in my ceiling, ahaha. I don't even. I'm just like, "Oh life. Whatever."
People keep telling me it's unhealthy, but I can't help but feel that my general coping method (avoidance with a dash of black humour, read: only removing the debris from my computer desk and proceeding to read Merlin steampunk!AU fic before doing anything else about the chaos and destruction) is better than those of my immediate family at least.
To wit:
Family Member A, henceforth known as "Dad": gets so angry about it he gets a blood pressure spike and literally almost has a heart attack
Family Member B, henceforth known as "Mum": cries bitter tears of rage and frustration and stabs herself with a needle while crafting
Family Member C, henceforth known as "Grandma": isn't told anything about it since she'd lock herself in her bedroom and cry about it and the cruelty of the world and about how she has so many pressures to deal with for days
Tomorrow:
- get a new parking permit! will only take about 5 hours of waiting at the city admin. office!
- assemble my schedule for this semester!
- possibly acquire something to eat!
- maybe even clean some more!
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