Put A Fork In Me. I'm Done.

Being at home this weekend to care for my mom creates emotional wreckage. Things are difficult. (Wait until I tell you about yesterday's incident involving my mom and her inability to conceptualize maps and direction). We get along better than we used to, but something's still not quite right. It's like no matter how hard I try, or no matter what I do, it's never good enough. It's never right.

She often makes me feel like a failure at life. She's not the only person who makes me feel that way, but she was the first person.

When I finally leave on Monday to return to College Town, I'll begin my own sort of recovery. It'll take a couple of days to feel good about myself again. It'll take a few days to remind myself that it's not everybody else in the world who aren't satisfied with me. It's only a select few.

While I'm in complaint mode, I'm also going to use this post to tell you I'm rather perturbed with BFS4. She was supposed to take me out for my birthday this weekend. We were just going to go out to eat and to a movie. However, I wanted to go out on Sunday (since the roads are too nasty today) but she can't because that's Husband's day off from work and she doesn't want him to be upset.

WTF!? She lives with him! They can't spare a few hours together so she can accompany me to a movie? For my birthday!? Really?

Really.

Suck it up kittlekat, it's not about you.

Nothing's ever about you.

That's the problem.

No lyrics, too busy watching Dude Where's My Car? True story.