Stand Alone Spirit

It’s late, I’m tired  I’m hungry, I don’t want to sleep in a strange clean bed, I want to be gross in my bed, I’m ill as fuck, my face is leaking, I dislike this dog immensely, I want my mum and I’m on……

What is this? 

My Dad is such a miserable git. He’s 73 going on a miserable 173.
Every Christmas he moans about us (Mum and Me) not being ready for having everyone over on Boxing Day, which is the family tradition. He tidies up a bit and empties the bins, that’s normally his whole Christmas contribution. Oh and he does the neighbor’s cards.
He doesn’t buy presents, mum holds the purse strings but he still has no inclination, he doesn’t say thank you when opening presents, doesn’t want to eat anything fancy, or make an effort or honestly contribute positively at all.
This Christmas Mum and I have pulled an amazing alternative Christmas menu out the bag and all he can do is moan about how late we are having our food. Lmao it’s fucking infuriating. And because he’s so mild mannered and placid out the house, no one belives a word Mum and I say when we tell them how our festive days went down.

This is the first Christmas after his Nephew who he was close to passed away, and If I hadn’t witnessed previous Christmases I’d day it was that that was bothering him so.
It’s not abuse or drunkenness or violence or anything horrible like that I know, I know. But it’s still pissing on every effort made to make this time a happy one for all.
I screamed at him yesterday, and I mean I lost my shit and asked him whats wrong. Because to be honest, if I had to hear him mutter under his breath one more time I’d of set his presents alight. He said nothing and took the dog for a walk. The only thing he’s agreed to do over the next couple days is wash up.

Happy Christmas for some and a monumental effort for others.

Who’s got enough time on their hands to come and love me up. I’m cold and trying to fight off a sore throat. I need snuggles and various other necessities.

My Mother dearest is fighting the deadly disease called the common cold, my house is officially under code ‘Woe’!

Code ‘Woe’, is something Dad and I came up with for occasions such as this. My Mother acts like she is the only person who has ever felt unwell. She mopes and moans and is ademant that we do not care about how she feels. Without fail she’ll accuse me of only caring about things that directly affect me and she will also remember the exact date of an example. Lmao

It’s hilarious and tiresome. She goes from an intellectual bundle of fun, to a child I want to kick repeatedly in the face. I’ll be running around after her as if she is not long for this world.

Roll on next week.

He told my mum that he is sure I am a lesbian because I haven’t had a boyfriend in a long while, I like rock music, keep my nails short and have the type of friends I do. Naturally I don’t have to tell you guys that it isn’t the lesbian bit that annoys me, it’s the fact he feels that if your interests differ from the ‘norm’, then you are instantly pigeon holed.

I need you all to pray for my brother. He is sooo fucking dumb I fear for his life. He managed to help make a baby, and is being a real good dad, but, his lack of intelligence fucking terrifies me.

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My ‘better than the other knee’ is telling me who’s boss tonight. I need to put ice on it and cool the inflammation right now before it fills with fluid and explodes, but fucksake I’m all tucked up in bed. And I’ve already began psychotically placing various people in my mind, into position on my bed. I’ll have to unwork all that now. *sigh*

I have to get up, get cold and put ice on my knee. 02:54am . Fuck you arthritis.

(First World) Poverty and isolation go hand in hand. I won’t go into my mum dragging her heels with fixing the car, that’s another rage filled rant entirely.

My thighs and arse are like built. Like I could move mountains doing that 70’s bump. Iron Man could slap my thighs for a 400% charge up no problem. But my back and arm’s are weak as anything! Not cool.

When I used to do Tae Bo and kick boxing, I’d bulk up like crazy. I have huge trapezius muscles even when I don’t train, like up by neck I am the fucking Incredible Hulk. So the idea of again training brings back the opportunity to look like I’m on fucking steroids. Oy vey. 

*You can tell I’ve only recently seen The Avengers can’t you. I’m as narcissistic as Loki to compare myself to fucking super heroes. lol Again!

What a sensational 3am text post title. - OK so underneath is what I wrote in an angst-y gut wrenching ‘I WANT YOU’ rage. I was falling asleep while writing it, but it’s just too funny. Well to me anyway.

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Giving me a whole bunch of trapped nerves. 

I know I’m made of stern stuff. But the stern stuff that I’m made of doesn’t know how to deal with standing on one spot for 5 hours serving customers, pretending that I’m not in incredible pain.