OK, I'm going to whine and bitch and moan.  You've been warned.

I'm so tired today.  I got out of bed after 1pm, and wish I could go right back, crawl under the covers and start again… or just go back to sleep and wait for this day to pass altogether.

Everything seems too loud.  The fan, the tv, my parents voices.  And it's annoying the bejeezus out of me.  I feel like turning everything on mute. 

I've been reading… alot lately.  I reread a romance novel I absolutely adore.  I've had it in my mind to pick it up again, and when I saw it for a dollar, I did.  So now I have two copies of it… Which, is good, at least I know where one is now.  (Bet Me, by Jennifer Crusie)  I just finished a sappy romance by Nora C… and because it had a ballet theme running through it, as soon as I finished I grabbed my copy of Center Stage and watched that.  I've got three books I'm trying to read at once.  The fifth story collection from Louise L'Amour, It Will Never Happen to Me; A book on Children of Alcoholics by Claudia Black, and Home Coming by John Bradshaw.  Of course I really should just pick one, but honestly, my attention span kind of sucks and I keep thinking if I give some time to each of them I won't feel so bogged down by each of their subjects.  All three were recommended to me, and the two self help sort of books are good but I can only give so much time to each.  But I'm glad to be reading them.  They explain alot of things.

My parents… today, I'm trying so hard not to roll my eyes.  I'm trying to listen and smile and be ok, but it's really hard.  I love them, but it feels like every single thing annoys me.

My mom asked me to tend to the hamburger… it was frozen, so I scrapped it and thought there was enough water so I could go see the next sequence in the show I was watching… I burned it.  I added water, but it's kind of like I knew this would happen.  I got caught up and just let it go.  It should be fine… it's for spaghetti, and with the sauce and the fact that it boiled down all that added water, I'm sure it's going to be ok… I just wish my mom hadn't have trusted me with it.  I feel like a fuckup.

My dad gets home, and his friend from florida calls.  An ex drinking buddy.  This guy has cancer, and has been really sick the last few years.  My dad makes a big deal about needing to go down there for his vacations and help his buddy.  Honestly, I can't wait for the day that that man finally keels over.  He treats that guy better than he treats us. 

Of course whenever my dad gets a phone call… he talks ten times louder then he needs to.  He laughs louder, he is jovial.  And it pisses me off.  Of course being that everything is ten times louder to me doesn't help much to have him yelling and being happy with this jackass.

Reading the book about children of alcoholics is interesting.  The thing is… is that my dad has one night a week that he goes out to a bar and drinks.  One night.  As I read I realize that he was a child of an alcoholic.  His father drank.  He was the baby, so I keep wondering how he dealt with it when he was little.  From what little I've gathered, when his father drank the kids scattered.  Of course, from what else I've heard and learned about his brothers over the years, they were/are drinkers as well.  I want to know how he became the man he did.  I want to understand why he treats us like he does.  And I want to know why the memories I have that are bad… why he did what he did.  I asked my mom if he was drunk when he would belittle or tease/taunt like he did, and she told me no.  I told her that from what I could remember he hadn't been drinking, but I thought maybe if he was it would make sense.  So… it doesn't make sense. 

Abuse passed on from one generation to the next.  And that doesn't make sense to me.  I only understand a small thread of it… if you dont' know any better… if you meet someone and marry them and have kids with a person who doesn't know any better.  But my mom does.  To be abused and feel that pain and hurt… and not to turn around and say that you won't do that to your kids… That doesn't make sense to me. 

If I ever have kids… I know I won't do that.  I won't make them feel worthless and stupid.  I won't make them feel scared of me.  I hate that I feel that way about myself and my dad.  I hate that I try so hard to make him happy… I go work on cars or the furnace… I learn how to do things around here so he doesn't have to… and still one small thing, or nothing at all can trigger a tongue lashing that I don't feel I deserve.

Fuck.

I have alot going on I guess… I hate that.  People ask me if I'm stressed and I always say, "from what?"  What the hell should stress me out?  I don't have a job, I don't have any real bills… I don't have relationships with friends in real life.  What on earth should stress me out?

It's so annoying to feel like this. 

I'm going to go eat spaghetti and watch a movie and read later… and try to zone the hell out.