Just waiting for my family to come home. I just know they'll ask me why I'm eating breakfast when I should be getting ready to go to the store. Oh, please do forgive me for taking care of myself, Mrs. 70 pounds. Maybe you should try it once in awhile.
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.