Things here aren't great. And of course it's my fault, like everything else. The wall paint is chipping? What did she do now? I totally get why my sister split. They yell at you for everything. Remember when I blogged about how they accused me of stacking the cutlery wrong so it would stab whoever put it away? I wasn't even f***ing home that night! But even my eye witness, my mother, insists upon it.
Oh, gotta go, they're home. Damn it.