I am losing my mind.

Right now the only thing keeping me going is knowing that this time next year I will be moving out of the house, finally. My family is driving me totally nuts.

On Saturday morning I woke up feeling pretty sniffly and sick. It was 4:30 in the morning and time to head to work. I was downstairs, and I was eating a bowl of cereal.I hear my sister come trudging down the stairs and in a Seroquel-induced slur she says
“Don’t eat all the cereal.”

It was ONE bowl. I know she was coming downstairs to raid the fridge because she is a total closet eater(well, we all are). I feel sometimes like her gastric bypass was a huge mistake because she is wasting the opportunity to lose as much weight as possible. She eats fatty food and candy, which she isn’t even supposed to have. You can eat ice cream all day and not lose weight. It is so hard having her around the house, she hoards food that she will never actually eat.

I’m just sick of having her here she needs to grow up and move out or start contributing to the house. I buy groceries all the time and occasionally I do label some food but I also buy things that everyone can have.

I left work early on Saturday because I was feeling sick and there was a big sign on the cereal that said “EMILY.”

Seriously lady, calm down, its a box of fucking cereal.

My dad also will not stop nagging me. The other day, I opened some juice in the morning and I left the little white pull-tab on the counter. When I came home he lectured me about it for TEN MINUTES. I think he is taking out his feelings about the Bobby break-up by nagging me. I almost called Bobby today to ask him to take my dad out on a man-date just so he will leave me alone.

I stayed home sick, my nose is swollen and I can’t breathe. I had to move out of bed so I cleaned my room up a bit. I was at the kitchen sink washing dishes when my dad came up and started nagging me for washing dishes AS I was washing them. Then I said how the dishes in the sink weren’t even mine and he said Emily claimed they weren’t hers and he was sick of it.

So at this point i just told him to drop it and leave me alone. Then he started fidgeting with my champagne flutes on the dish drying rack, and I asked him to just stop and leave. Right after he went upstairs one of them smashed on the kitchen floor as I added a dish to the rack. Thanks Dad, Thanks.

So I dropped the subject of the dishes not being my dishes but I actually have PROOF that they weren’t my dishes which I am going to share with you.

1. The majority of the dishes were our blue fauxderuta shallow bowls. I hate these plates for many reasons. One is that I dislike complicated patterns on dishes. Two is that they are just indecisive, they are too shallow to be a bowl but not flat enough to be a plate. I prefer to just not use them. I like my plates to be plain and white.

2. The second set of proof is that the plates had melted cheese on them. Evidence of Nachos! Ha! Right now, the only tortilla chips in the house are marked “EMILY” and tied up so no one else can eat them. Therefore, the dishes must be hers!

Wow my life is so lame.

Give me validation.

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