Oh, well.

Aug. 8th, 2013 01:47 pm
yggdra_sil: (Default)
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 …”
“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.


Dec. 31st, 2011 10:55 pm
yggdra_sil: (Default)
I hate it when life does that.
Yesterday I was in my bubble, content and planning for my first ever perfect New Year's Eve (and Afternoon): getting sushi, watching DVDs, reading, dozing, and having it all to myself. Well.

This morning Mum asked me to go with Dad and G*mother to the operetta in her stead. I understand why she didn't want to go - she's got the sniffles and a nasty cough; but I hate operetta, and she knows that. But apart from that being with G*mother at the operetta means having to go to the restaurant afterwards with parents, G*mother, and aunt and uncle. And after that sitting together, watching horrible TV shows, and waiting till it's fucking 12 o'clock and drinking champagne. I hate champagne. And I hate those TV shows with a passion.
Well, I was pissed, obviously. But instead of simply letting me be and calm down somehow, Mum comes in and does that fucking whiny thing where she tries to make me feel bad for what I feel (and somehow telling me spending this last week doing nothing was somehow not normal. Ha!). I wasn't angry at her for having a cold, for fuck's sake. I was angry ... at the universe or whatever. Normal, healthy anger about never ever having a chance of getting away from that old bat of a G*mother. Not petulance (even if it sounds like that :)). I'm just ... tired of her, tired of her machinations, her monopoly of our lives, of her temper tantrums, and of her emotional cruelty ...

Anyway, "Wiener Blut" was everything I expected it to be. Dinner was ... not worse than expected, which means it was barely okay. And sitting together comes now. Oh goody. I'm all aquiver now.

That manipulating, conniving old bitch!


Nov. 2nd, 2011 06:33 pm
yggdra_sil: (Default)
I'm pretty much exhausted.
Work is good, the book fair and everything else went pretty well. But still, it's a little overwhelming.
In the evening it's already dark when I get home - yes, now it's really winter - and I'm all the time.
Sleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep, I need more sleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep!



May. 22nd, 2009 08:23 pm
yggdra_sil: (Default)
Well, I once again had/have a cold. Isn't that great? :) Two weeks now.

Wednesday I had to hand in my bibliography and theses, so the night I worked till 4.30 a.m. Which - of course - shot my day/night rhythm to hell. But I handed the stuff in only four hours late. Yay!
And slept almost the whole following day (Thursday). But I still am more tired than I should; but maybe that's the cold. Or whatever.

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