so don't ask if you don't want to know
The Wrong Bear
You know I have a Grammi Gummy Bear tattoo, right. That our family has an affinity for that particular program. Other than the cooking up stuff stuff, I relate to Grammi Bear.
I don’t usually relate to the Mother Bear until I come home and someone’s been sleeping in my bed and it’s all stinky. Someone’s been scarfing all the food and water in my fridge and not replacing it. Someone’s been using up all the fucking toilet paper in my bathroom and not getting more.
WHAT THE FUCK FAMILY!
It seems no matter how much I bitch, how many times I bring this shit up for discussion, how many time I go off on screaming tangents… nobody seems to give a shit about my feelings.
FUCK OFF!
I realize these are tiny little annoyances, but really they are each symptoms of the big giant disrespect I get. I put my foot down a couple of weeks ago and said basically, “get your goddam shit together and let me off the hook by December 1st.” Get real jobs, pay your bills on time, stop making me responsible for whether or not you eat. Get out of my life except for the normal amount of parent-adult child time most people subscribe to.
I’MFUCKINGDONE! IT’SNOTMYJOBANYMORE!
And yet… nothing. No change. Well, Casey’s managed to get other people to babysit most of last week – which I feel is just a gesture and pretty soon they’ll both be up my ass daily again. Ginnie STILL hasn’t tried to get a job. I get bullshit from her. Supposedly she’s applying online – doubtful. Then she’s waiting until she’s 19 on the 15th so she can get a better server job. Right. Fucking Excuses.
I FEEL LIKE I’M SPITTING AGAINST THE WIND.
How? How do I get my children to, as my new friend Donna would say, HARDEN THE FUCK UP. I feel so… powerless again. I’m not mealy mouthing and letting myself be a doormat. I’m telling them exactly what they need to do but they’re just ignoring me. I don’t want to be the screaming shrew but that’s the only idea I have left. I’ve stopped buying groceries other than what I want. I’ve made plans for myself regardless of what they want me to do. Why do I want to run away from MY HOME?
I’m going to die on December 1st and you all need to get on without me.
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