Get me out get me out getmeoutgetmeoutgetmeout

I went into Mollie’s room today when she was in the basement. I was looking for the air stepper that I normally excercise with, but she came upstairs and caught me leaving her room after a quick and fruitless search. She hid it at the beginning of the week because that’s her oh-so mature way of dealing with something that she has blown way out of proportion. (Of course, I respond by sneaking around when she’s not looking, which is equally mature).

Anyway, about an hour ago she comes up to me and tells me: "You don’t need an explanation for this; I don’t ever want you to speak to me again."

WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?

EXCUSE ME?!!? If anything, I think I’m the one who should be saying that to her. Just- fuck! She’s such a drama queen! She’s pissed because I went into her room looking for something that she had taken that doesn’t belong to her. She thinks I excercise too much and God forbid I don’t constantly stuff myself like she does! This is so fucking unfair! And now I’m pissed at myself for letting her have this much control over me. The only other option for me, however, is to deal with things that I’m perfectly happy ignoring.

LIFE DOESN’T ALWAYS HAVE TO SUCK OR BE COMPLICATED. Why do people insist on trying to prove the opposite?

I’ll comment favorites later (like tomorrow), hope you guys understand.