SOooooo....once again, my uniform for work FAILS to get out of the dryer in time. So, I wear yet another damp polo to work. I mention something to Dad about buying another (for $15). Y'know what he says?
"Well, you just got your paycheck, right? That would be a good idea."
WTF. You just bought my stepmom a $700 camera and you can't spare the fucking $15 to buy me a shirt that I NEED for work. Actually, I wouldn't even need it, but it's not my fault that my shirt doesn't get washed/dryed fast enough -- I'm not the one who INSISTS that JoAnn do the laundry because she thinks she does it best. For the record: I fucking hate the way she does laundry.
Wait, wait, my weekend gets even MORE fabulous. I suffer a mental breakdown of sorts on the way to work which results in a cry-session in my car. I come home and talk to Sean on the phone about it and tell him about how I'm miserable because I miss him, I'm tired of being here and all of the CRAP that goes on here, how I'm not getting anything done it feels like, and how summer is moving too quickly. I cry, so he clearly knows I'm upset. He gives me a few words of helpfulness and then I try to cheer myself up by engaging in other conversation with him.
Well, every conversation I even start is interrupted by him talking to my cat (which he took because my mom would otherwise have sent my best friend of 9 years to the shelter) for long periods of time when he KNOWS we only get 45min. a day. He asks me what's wrong because I'm quiet. Well, obviously I'm not going to be all rainbows and butterflies when I'm fucking miserable. This trend continues with me trying to talk and him constantly talking to my cat and occasionally complaining about his house.
Then I finally say "It seems like you're more interested in talking to my cat than me" (jokingly) He responds with something I don't quite remember.
(jokingly) "So you're going to run off with my cat and leave me?"
"Hey, I'm the one who took your cat for you because your mom was going to send her to the shelter."
"...I was joking..."
"What's wrong, you're really quiet? It feels like something's wrong and you're not telling me"
"It just feels like you're not all that into talking to me tonight."
"What do you mean, you're the one being quiet?"
"Everytime I try to talk to you, you get distracted or something."
"Well I'm sorry! I try to do everything for everyone and the only thing I get back is dirt thrown in my face!"
*shocked silence* "And you wonder why I never tell you when something's wrong?! I tell you and then you get pissed!"
And then he's mad at me, our 45 minutes are up, and we're forced to say goodbye and we're PISSED at each other.
I mean...really...REALLY...I'm not even sure what I want right now. I just want everything to stop, to be back to the way it was. I'm so tired of everything. I'm just fucking miserable.