smoldworf

Sometimes I’m frighteningly good.
Like a psychic or something.
Or maybe I'm just stupid and should just STFU.

After confronting my uncle about terrorising my grandmother one of my first thoughts was “Boy, I’m gonna pay for this”.

I really wish I’d been wrong.

This Monday something happened in my family and we were all shaken. There was arguing, screaming and desperation. Neither of us slept well that night and I decided to stay home from work (after two hours of sleep that was a pretty good idea, too). Comforting each other. Strength in numbers and all that, right?
Well. Someone, I don’t know who, had the brilliant idea to get my uncle involved.
He preached about “sticking together”, about us “learning a bitter lesson”, how much better it is to work together and all that crap. I didn’t talk to him, I was on the sofa, trying to get a little sleep.

Enter Granny. "[Your uncle] says he won’t enter the house again (funny, he’d already been there this morning) until you apologise to him."
That was nothing new, he’d said that the week before. On the day I tried to tell him to stop tormenting his own mother about her money.

The new part? Her huge, pleading eyes and the whiny voice.
No fucking way, I thought. She wouldn't dare.

She dared.

“So what?”, I asked.
“Well, you know …”
"Huh?"
"..."
“You want me to apologise? You are aware I was defending you, right? I didn’t do anything wrong, but if you tell me to, I will apologise.”
“…”
“Do you want me to apologise?”
“Well, you know …”
“Do you want me to apologise?”
“… I have no choice!”
“Well, then.”
She did have a choice. He had already “entered the house” twice. He just had to put that cherry on top of his sundae of triumph. He told her he wouldn’t enter her house ever again several times before. When he’d argued with my dad (his brother). When she wouldn’t give him power of attorney. And he always came back.

So I “apologised”. I made sure he knew I didn’t do it willingly. I told him that from now on he can do whatever he wants; I won’t defend his mother again. He can rage, he can scream, he can demand money and power of attorney. I don’t care.

No choice, my ass.

This was just the continuation of the old habit of “they (my parents and me) are always there, no matter how I treat them. They may get angry but they’re always at my beck and call.” Now completed with a “she’ll get over it”.

Well, fuck you, lady.

I took a holiday to make sure you’re not “all alone by yourself! Whine!”™ when my parents take their two weeks’ worth of holidays.
We asked my uncle (who isn’t even related to you) to visit with us, too. Because the ray of sunshine that is your firstborn refused to look after you until you gave him power of attorney.
I was willing to sleep on an uncomfortable lumpy old couch so you didn’t have to be “all alone by yourself! Whine!”™ at night during that time.

I/we did that because you’re old and needy. I was willing to overlook how you’d treated the people I loved because I thought holding a grudge would be petty.

Well, fuck you, lady.
My grudge is back. And this time it’s here to stay. Call me petty if you want. I’d rather be petty than your puppet.

And your crocodile tears? Let those two charming, oh-so-successful bitches that are my cousins dry them. When they visit. If they visit. They life a whole kilometre away, after all.

Well... on Tuesday I had a job interview. It was pretty okay and I didn't die of nervousness.
Yay me! :)
They told me they'd contact me by the end of next week (and I wondered how I'd survive that). Well, yesterday the boss's secretary called me to tell me that they'd decided to give me the job.

I'm still pretty high on endorphines right now.

I mean, apart from the fact that it's for two years and means more money than the internship - they decided that I'm the one for the job after two days!
That really feels good. I mean, I try and ignore stupid comments about the (supposed) uselessness of humanities. But it still - with time - gets to me. Makes me doubt my own worth and the worth of what I'm doing and enjoying.
So this is absolutely awesome for me and my feeling of self-worth.

( cut for ranting )

I hate it when people expect me to only ask "how high?" when they tell me to jump. Argh.
She's freaking out over her thesis - I try helping her by calming her down, letting her bounce off ideas, suggesting different aspects, giving my point of view... (and no, I'm not saying that everything I said was useful or brilliant or helped that much, but I was trying to help).
So... when I tell her how worried/scared I am that my thesis is not good enough/I'm going to fail (the stuff almost anyone worries about at some time, I know)... what does she say? "Oh, for you it's different."
Huh? Different how, exactly? Are you just telling me that my fears are less significant than yours?

So, when I'm not availyble for some time (not reading my e-mails over the fucking weekend), she's getting whiny and bitchy. "Are you there? Come on!!" Nyanyanya, bitchbitchbitch.

Missy, you're not the only one who's worried and stressed and busy. So stop being an asshat and get a grip. Please. I don't want to be angry at you. I like you, actually.

Oh. My. God.
She's trying to drive me insane. And she's succeeding. It's amazing how much one person can TALK without having anything to say.

Why won't she shut up? I have work to do. I have to write a paper and have to conventrate. But hey, her problems are so much more important than anything I might worry about.

Really, sometimes I hate her.

Any these two weeks are, in a way, holiday for me, too. Or at least they're supposed to be. I mean, I am finally alone for two weeks, have no one to tell where I'm going or what I'm doing or why. Only in theory, though.

Bwha.

Sooo.
Some things happened, nothing special, just... well. The usual stuff, I guess.

Last Friday my mother and I had a discussion about a birthday present. I thought the person didn't deserve the presents she had chosen. I know. that sounds mean. But if someone hurts or insults those I care about (or me *g*) I most definitely won't forget it. And this person... well, she considers herself "elite" - me and my parents are really only (and barely) good enough to shine her shoes. If at all. Because we're not rich enough. Or know the RIGHT people. I always say she (and her husband) are the only people I know that would get off from reading their accounts current. Yes, I know how to bear a grudge. Fuckers.
Anyway, I said I wouldn't wrap the presents. My mother told me not to be unfair (!). She wrapped the presents herself.
End of story.

Then.
Still nothing from T and C. Which I think is not very nice. I've been waiting for a call/answer to my e-mail two weeks/one week, respectively.
Fuckers.
It's not like I FORCED them to ask me to help them.

And. (A good one)
I had very much fun with A this Saturday. Tim Burton is cool. ;)

And. This week's moral conflict: tournament on Saturday - shuld I chicken out again?
All those questions...

Anyway. I still need a topic for my thesis. Bwah.