Tuesday, March 02, 2010

A Letter to a Bitch.

MS, Darling.

I hate you. I hate when you correct my grammar, and interrupt me when I'm saying something to do it, even though you say I'm rude for "playing with my toes at the table," even though I'm scratching them because they itch. I hate when you guilt trip me for having a day off when Kathryn comes down, because I have a RIGHT to a day off. In fact, by state law, I have a right to an hour lunch and two ten minute breaks because of the length of the shift that I'm working. However, I have to be in the house with you at all times, or at least close enough to come running when you press the call button. I hate it when you change the rules on me and say that something is my responsibility when it wasn't made explicit that it was my responsibility. I hate it when you call me every five minutes when you know that I have homework to do, just to tell me about something in the paper that you find interesting and that you want me to read, even though you know I don't have the time, because of my homework load. I hate when I heat your dinner to boiling hot, and then you tell me it's cold, 15 minutes after I have given it to you, without even taking a bite. I hate when you think that everything can be done on your schedule, even though my sleep cycle starts before you're ready to go to bed. I hate it when you get mad at me for being impatient when it is 9:30 at night, and you haven't finished your dinner. I hate it when you treat me like I'm stupid, a recurring event, I might add, like I don't know what grapes look like in the fridge, or that I didn't check all the drawers and shelves for a specific cracker. I hate it when you pry in my life, when I'm already so pissed at you that I don't want to talk to you. I hate it that I can drink two glasses of wine and STILL be stressed out by you. I hate that you ask to do something that you could do after you are ready for bed before you let me get you ready for bed, just to make me wait. I hate that you are dead set on making me do something that I hate doing, just because you know I hate doing it. Make T. do it; all she does all day is sit on her ass anyway. I am here for one reason and one reason only: because my friends that I was supposed to live with deserted me, and started talking shit about me behind my back. Not because I like you (who the fuck does???), not because you need me. Because I can't afford to live on my own. Because my ex-friends are assholes, and didn't have the guts to show me they were to my face. I would rather be homeless than live here. I would rather starve than live here. I would rather live with five assholes who hate me and don't depend on me, than one asshole who does, and won't leave me alone for five seconds, and then says she does so much for me, when you're really just a bitch. That is all.

Fuck you.


P.S. Calling AAS fat makes him want to beat you to death with a pineapple. Also, he thinks that every day I don't murder you is a miracle.