Felt like posting a bunch of photos of me and my bestie.
Cuz she’s my bestie and I love her oodles.
And we’re cute together.
:D
All day at work I clean. I clean toilets, sinks, showers, beds, windows, floors, dressers, TV’s, anything you can think of, I probably clean on a daily basis. So when I come home the last thing I want to do is clean. But today, instead of sitting on my ass watching TV or working on my niece’s scrapbook I clean my room. I strip my bed, wash my comforter, pick up all the paper, notebooks, and magazines off my floor, straighten up my dressers, and do my laundry. In my head I know I’ve done a good job, it’s something I should have done weeks ago but kept putting off because of the simple fact that I do not want to come home from my cleaning job and spend my night cleaning. I finished what I could about an hour ago and then sat down to work on my architecture portfolio. About 45 minutes into my work my mom comes home. I go out to greet her and help her put the groceries away that she picked up on her way home. But half way down the hall I can already tell she’s in one of her moods; she threw her keys on the counter and slammed the grocery bags on the table. I continue down the hall anyway in hopes of calming her down from whatever it is that’s pissed her off. I asked her what was wrong and she said something along the lines of, “I work with a bunch of idiots.” I replied, “And…?” and she said, “I do the job of three people and don’t get any credit!” Already she’s yelling at me, because apparently I’m one of the idiots she works with and it’s my fault…as usual. As we’re unpacking the few bags of food she asks me what the blue silicone cupcake tray is. I tell her it’s for Ava’s birthday cake and she goes off the handle, “I guess I just don’t understand why you’re making the cake for someone else! I thought somebody else was making it for you!” I calmly responded, “No, I told you this three times yesterday, I’m making the cake because we didn’t know what day we were going up to see them and I couldn’t give Andrea a definitive date.” She said, “They are perfectly capable of making their own goddamn cake!” To which I responded, “But I offered, so I’m making it. And I’m not making it here so stop freaking out.” To which she responded, “Then where the fuck are you making it?!” This went on for quite awhile when finally I told her to get off her high horse and went back to my room.
During the five minutes that I sat quietly on my bed measuring pieces of card stock my mom continued to slam everything she came in contact with around the kitchen. She put the dishes away by throwing them into their place in the cupboards, she put the rest of the food away by throwing them into the freezer and then slamming the drawer shut, and she moved the kitchen chairs around by throwing them against each other until they had been sufficiently slammed around. Finally I went back out to the kitchen and said, “What the FUCK is wrong with you? You are being ridiculous!” She continued to do the dishes as she said, “Once again, you refuse to do anything around the house. How long have you been home?” I answered, “A couple hours, I cleaned my room since I got home and I’ve been doing laundry!” She said, “Yet you still refuse to do anything around the communal areas to help everyone keep the house clean.” I answered, “No, I don’t ‘refuse’ to do it, I don’t want to do it because I spend my entire day cleaning up after other people. Do I ask you to come home and do manual labor? No. Do I ask dad to come home and fix a dozen computers? No. So why should I be forced to clean when I come home?!” To which she responded, “Once again, you’re yelling at me for no reason.” But, this time, instead of letting her twist my emotions around and make me out to be the bad guy I spoke up for myself and said, “No, I’m not yelling at you for no reason, I’m yelling at you for a reason. Because you come home on your high fucking horse, slamming shit around, making me feel like I did something wrong and get me all riled up and pissed off. Then you try to turn it around and make it my fault. Well guess what, it’s not going to work this time. You’re in a bad mood because of something that happened outside of this house and outside of this argument so get over it!”
And off to my room I went where I promptly shut the door quietly and went to typing this post.
Fuck you mom and your stupid roller coaster of emotions. You’re worse than me!
I was out on the town so I came to your window last night…
There’s just something about this little face that brightens my darkest of days. She is truly an angel. I love her so much <3
