too drugged up to think of a title

it's official. I am ill. to the MAX!!! seriously, I dunno what's wrong with me, I woke up this morning, and my entire body felt like I'd run an eight thousand mile run, then swam an ocean, then climbed a mountain or two, then put myself through a meat tenderizer, and THEN, to top it all off, hit myself over the head with a mallet, and allowed myself to be beaned by three trains and a bus consecutively JUST for good measure. plus it hurt to swallow, my nose was all stuffed, my head had turned into a giant cottonball, and my hair was super-dirty. so, no doubt about it, I was miserable.

on a good note, my tongue injury is starting to go away...

so, a lazy morning getting yelled at for not being at school, plus two cold pills that made me high and did nothing for any of my symptoms, and a LOOOOOOONG shower later, I feel maybe a quarter bit better.

Sean's in--well somewhere, working. I'm probably going to miss all of school again, and choir, because seriously, the thought of leaving the house actually makes me fall over (I've done it twice, and another time, almost down the stairs). And to top it all off, I am randomly nauseous, but only in ten minute bursts. Like, this morning, I almost puked at my coffee, then in an hour, I ate revolting canned fruit, and was fine. Now I feel vomit-y just at the taste in my mouth. That is the one thing I haven't done yet is brush my teeth. really really REALLY gotta do that. and it isn't even fair, cause Sherayna is making spare rib tonight which is one of my favorite meals in the world, and I probably won't even be able to eat it, let alone keep it down. and my mummy won't even let me stay home. well, boo on her, I'm staying anyways cause she's left somewhere, and Sherayna has taken the kids--somewhere. Prolly to school. Which is where I should be. but am not.

URGFH!

what an irritating pathetic post. :(

I think I shall continue this complaining streak, cause I am unsatisfied with fifty percent of my life right now. My entire house is broken. Entirely, completely, indoubitabley BROKEN. The cupboard doors are falling off their hinges, the paint is flaking, we have about four leaks in our roof, the entire upstairs bathroom is hell on earth (the tiles are all ripped up, and Shawn, our landlord's husband, actually BROKE our toilet. and by broke, I mean the ceramic is actually is peices. Not only that, there is grout dripping down the tiles on the wall, and the mirror is broken in peices, and the medicine cupboard door doesn't even close all the way), the electrical is absolutely haywire, the fuses blow EVERY SINGLE DAY, our kitchen outlets don't even work half the time, we're not allowed to have more than ONE appliance running at a time, AND our house is infested with giant wolf spiders. And when I say giant wolf spiders, I mean there are TWO wolf spiders that are both larger than my FACE--MATING on my deck right now. I mean it! they're freaking MATING! Which means even more enormous wolf spiders who exist for the sole purpose of terrorizing ME! I have seriously been attacked by no less than THREE huge spiders while in this very room. Now I can't go out on my deck anymore because of the monster arachnids that have made their home there, and now that there are going to be even more spiders in my house, I am seriously going to go insane.

And ya wanna know the peachy keen part? Moni and Shawn won't do a THING about any of it. know why? cause they hate the world. Moni is a freaking succubus bitch who doesn't give a shit about what goes on in this house so long as we stay out of the basement, and clean up our doggies' poops. And as soon as one of her whiny elderly tenants complains about our dogs barking (our GUARD dogs barking at HER people who come and go in and out of OUR house at all hours of the DAY AND NIGHT), she threatens to evict us, IN SPITE of our one year lease. Not only that, she agreed to have people come in and help us move oil tanks so that we could build our dog run behind the house by the bamboo patch. They were supposed to come on three different days. They didn't come on ANY of those three days, and then when they did come, they left the oil tank sitting in OUR driveway. We had complained about tiles coming up in our bathroom floor for months. When she finally had her husband come and "fix" it, he pulled up EVERY SINGLE TILE, and then LEFT IT THAT WAY!!!! And now he's BROKEN OUR FREAKING TOILET!

THIS HOUSE IS OWNED BY RETARDS!!!!!!



wow, am I ever going off.

and mom freaking wonders why I never come home. it's because I prefer to avoid the fifty percent of my life that is crap. If I choose to spend my free time with people who are awesome, and in places that don't make me hate myself, well too bad. I choose self-esteem, thank you.

and yes, I am weird enough to relate my living space that I have almost nothing to do with to my self-worth. That's right, if Sherayna (or her kids) makes a mess, that means that I get to hate myself. if my mom won't clean her room, it means that I get to feel bad. know why? cause I am the only one who says anything about it. they are perfectly happy to live in quasi-mess. they don't care that there are clothes on the floor, and the dishes aren't done yet. these things make me crazy. and yes I know that I rarely actually DO any of these things, but during the summer when I did do them, nobody gave a rusty fuck! The kids came home, and messed my house right back up again! I told Mom and Sherayna, 'listen I cleaned up this area today, try to keep it clean while I am out.' what do I find when I get back? pig sty. like always. so yeah. screw them. I shall concentrate on musical theatre, and panto, and school, and choir, and Sean, and friends, because at least I get a little reward from that. they can clean up their own fucking messes, cause I refuse to do it anymore. I get mad at them cause the house is messy, and they say I am being unreasonable cause I'm "never home to contribute to the clean up, and upkeep of this house." well screw them too, because if I'm never home, it also means that I am not the one making the messes, and I am completely finished with cleaning messes that I didn't make. when I make a mess, I clean it up, right away, always. on any given day, if you count the things I have lying around? MAYBE MAYBE MAYBE one. my packsack. and even if my room isn't clean, at least I confine my mess to my room. I don't leave my door open for everyone else to look in and be offended at. I don't show my mess to the world. my family does not seem to understand that. and so, I think--my point was, I get to feel bad about their mess because somehow, according to them, it's still my fault that it exists. I am weird. and I don't care.

holy crap, I dunno even what I am saying anymore.This post is one big frustrated drug-ridden rant.

k, I'm done with this now. I feel like brushing my teeth. and doing some laundry. washing some floors. and something else. what was it? i have forgotten what it was. it better come back to me, or I will be crazy for the rest of the day. wait a second, I already am crazy.

ROAR!!!! grrr... *bad bad bad mood*

MY SHOUDLERS HURT, AND IT IS PISSING ME OFF!

if I was a cartoon, there'd be one of those anger squiggles above my head right now.