I didn't get to church last night. The Warden in my new prison didn't let me out. No, I had to stay and make supper...the much complicated task of opening frozen pizza and sliding it into the oven. And then I had to work on the dishes that no one has bothered with for two weeks.
So - the oven door is broken. I'm sure that is a reasonable excuse as to why she couldn't fix her own dinner. I mean, she complains that she can't stand for long periods of time. Well, there wouldn't have been any of that as I was on the computer during each pizza. So it must have been the door.
And I guess I'm just as guilty about the dishes. I shouldn't be the only one doing it though.
And if she would get up and do stuff a little more often...light activities wouldn't wipe her out.
I've said it before, and I'll probably say it again. I've been brought in to do the "bitch work" and pay the bills.
Regardless of the fact that I work a minimum of 40 hours a week. And am not allowed to sleep so that I am cranky and always feel exhausted.
Regardless of the fact that I have my own bills and needs.
A friend says that my problem is that I have no "vision". I have a vision alright. One in which nothing changes and I am forever a prisoner in my home and to my own mother no less. How can I ever have a family and home that is truly my own when I am tending hers? I suppose one could say that this is practice. If I ever marry a man such as the two people I am living with now...I will shoot myself. Of course, there are days I'd like to do that now. But nooooooo...I have a sense of duty and honor that would put a Klingon to shame. My mother depends on my income too much, depends on my for the bitch work she doesn't want to do.
Sometimes doing the right thing is the worse thing you can do. You pay for it for the rest of your life. Pay for it in tears and sweat - no amount of drugs and alcohol lessens the stress and pain - and at the end of the day, you still come up lacking the full amount.
Maybe I'll be in a better mood tomorrow.