usmcsis's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- being a brat i'm 24. you guys all know that and deedee, you've already heard this little rant today but oh well. anyway, i'm 24. there is a 2 in front of that 4. that means TWENTY four. it's not just a four. the 2 there makes it a whole other number. so my question is this? why the hell can't my parents understand that i am 24, not 4. i understand that i live under their roof. believe me, i would have sold my soul not to come home after judah left but i didn't have anywhere else to go. i didn't want them to have to bail me out again. i mean they've been doing it forever and i didn't want to feel like i owed them anymore than i already did. but, like i said, i had no where else to go so i had to come back here. of course, i kept saying i was only going to be here for a few months, maybe a year. and here it is going on 2 years and i am still here. now, i know that i screw up a lot. i know that i make a lot of mistakes. christ, i've been making them for 24 years, i'm pretty good a recognizing them by now ya know? lol anyway, i do not really need for my parents to point out every single mistake i have ever made in my entire life on a daily basis. perhaps they think that this is serving some purpose. it isn't. i am tired of my mother riding my ass about everything. yes, i know that i am a procrastinator. i am, i admit it. i know that i wait until the last minute to do things, i always have. she has been on my tail about putting things off for the past 24 years, it's getting old. i'm not going to change until i want to. her nagging me doesn't make me want to. if nothing else, it makes me want to piss her off even more cause she pisses me off. i know that i sound horribly ungrateful here. after all, i have lived here for almost 2 years rent free. but you know, it hasn't felt like a home to me since i moved back in. that's weird isn't it? this is the only home i had ever known for the first 22 years of my life. i lived in the house in hopewell with judah for just a little over a year before we split up and i came back here, but it has never felt like home since i got back. partly because i don't feel comfortable. i don't feel welcome. perhaps it has something to do with the fact that my parents turned my bedroom into a room for the dog after i left. *shrugs* i dunno, i know i sound like spoiled brat or something but i just hate being treated like i don't have good sense. granted, i don't always use it, but i do have some ya know? 5:53 pm - 18 Apr 2001 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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