10/26/2011

I really need to get back into writing. See, I hate at the current time recording all the shit that goes on, but later it comes in handy. You have no idea how many times I’ve flipped through here and my even less used paper journals to find dates of when stuff happened. Some job applications need the past 10 years of residence. I’ve moved 8 times in the past 10 years, it’s hard to keep all that in track. Which month and year each place was, where I was working at the time, where Mom was working. So, since I use this for my vague record collection I should be more on top of it.

Did I mention that a couple weeks ago I had to go over to Demon’s parents house to dog/house sit? I kept having a panic attack over it. Seriously. Like I ended up crying in sheer frustration and terror at the very idea of it. I never remembered agreeing to actually do it. I know I said I’d think about it, but somehow that ended up with me actually saying ‘yes’. I felt like all my control was ripped away and I hate that feeling. I hate feeling like I don’t have a say in what I do. I couldn’t really say no at that point because they already booked reservations and shit to visit people in Orlando. I’d be a total asshole if I backed out. So, I went.

Day into the 3/4 thing Mom calls and says she’s fired/resigned/didn’t pass her 90 probation review. Had two weeks left kind of thing. Ended up going in for her next shift, but told the manager lady that she couldn’t see herself going in for the next two weeks with everything going on. So Friday she drover herself the hour to the house (so proud of her being able to manage that, she panics driving just the 20 minutes to her job). I’m pretty sure my face almost broke I was so happy she was there.

It’s really awkward to be in someone’s house when they’re not there. And they have a wicked cluttered, dirty, icky house. Partly it’s because they have two large long hair dogs that track in shit from outside all the time. Partly it’s because she seems to think every available surface needs to have shit on it. Partly they’re really bad at cleaning. I was told that she spent two days totally scrubbing the house. Get there and I laugh. If that’s her idea of the house being perfectly clean then… just wow. Now, I’m not a cleaning person either, really, my room looks like a bomb went off. But eventually there comes a point where I spaz out at the dirt, clutter, mess and spend the whole day seriously cleaning. Moving furniture, getting in corners, picking up all the clutter and either putting it out of sight (closets FTW), or tossing the shit out.

Not her, there were probably a years worth of dog hair, dust bunnies, dirt, in every single corner. Never even knudged stuff on the floor out of the way to clean under it. Left dirty dishes in the sink, on the counters. Left piles of stuff on the kitchen tables. Really the house didn’t look any cleaner than I’ve seen it. And I’ve been in their house(s) for like 6 years. Why not just say I picked up the house a bit, why say you spent days cleaning? It’s obvious if you did you never turned on any lights.

Anyway. Not that I have a problem with messy dirty houses (well to some degree), but don’t say you’ve clean for two days when it’s obvious you didn’t. If you did, at the least you wouldn’t have left dirty dishes in the sink (that were there since the day she said she was cleaning).

And now since Mom and I both have no job, we’re struggling to find a job. It’s getting to Mom. Me, I’m in a ‘fuck it’ kind of mode. Like my father randomly decided to sent me pictures of a room, which looked like stuff was familiar, and then goes ‘oh this is my new room at your brother’s’. Like WTF? So, you don’t bother to mention to us before hand that you moved in with my brother and are NOT coming back? Fucker. We kept telling him to come back, asking him to, and just ‘oh yeah I moved in with your brother’. Why does it always boil down to that? Fucker. I give it two months max before they kill each other, or get arrested.

Have to go grocery shopping for odd n’ ends today. Snacks, and such. Dollar store for those treat bags for Halloween. Living in an apartment complex, where a dozen or more little kids play outside my windows, I feel we have no choice but to give them candy. Bastards. At least we talked to the upstairs neighbors and they’re doing it too, for the same reasons (worried the kids will retaliate somehow if you don’t), and we’re all going to sit outside for the night. No one wants to get up every few minutes, and they’d have to go up and down the stairs. No fun.

Never managed to finish my roman/greek solider costume. Never started. No money to really blow on the things I’d need. It would only be like $15, but for like $5 I can buy a full makeup kit and just be a zombie. Or I may just wear normal whatever clothes and drink pumpkin spiced beer (which tastes awesome by the way, the brand/type I picked up). We’ll see. I want to go totally out with the zombie costume. I have ripped old jeans, and an old tshirt, and I was going to rub them in the grass outside, add some extra tears. Skinned knees, and such. Do some killer effects with the make up, liquid latex is awesome. Dribble blood in, around the tears and the visible skin there. FUN! But I really don’t care about the kids enough to go through that much effort. If I was going out I’d probably do it, but I’m not, so probably won’t make that much effort.

Oh! Or I could throw on black pants, white shirt, Slytherin tie, and poof COSTUME. I’ll do that. And pin my Slytherin Prefect pin to my shirt. If I had Slytherin robes, then I would have thought of it sooner. Hmm… wonder if I can find some used on ebay for cheap cheap. I did notice PartyCity has an adult Slytherin robe for $30 online. Never say an adult robe before. I’m short enough that a large kids would fit. Adult would probably be too long.

Must clean today too. Now that I’ve ranted on it, I should at least do laundry.