*kicks deviantart*

[saitaina]

Originally published at Memoirs of a Nobody. You can comment here or there.

Okay, seriously, is it that hard to let me order my own damn prints? I put in all the information, splurging a bit (my rent’s getting upped so I’m getting while the getting is good), and after waiting for a weird ass ‘redirecting to page with more secure features’ message…

I get this lovely note:

(yes, that is a connection error image, your browser is not fucking with you).

So now I don’t even know if my order went through! But, I contacted them, so hopefully I’ll know. Sucks, because I probably won’t have the ‘courage’ to order them again and for a full set of 5×7’s of my best images at only $8.50…pretty rocking! *pouts*

And on a more “Real” note (not me bitching…just whining like a baby), mum had another one of her ‘let’s kick Sait out’ moments tonight. This time, she wants to sell the house and move into some sort of mental health ‘assisted living’ place…or something.

She’s tired of never having enough money to pay the bills (between us we make 1800$ a month, our house payment alone is 600$, then we have direct tv, phone, electricity, insurance (house/car), prescripts, food, pet food/supplies, heat (which was shut off), ect, plus loans to Uncle Mike and Grandmere), she’s tired of the house being a disaster because her home healthcare worker is a complete DUMBASS (seriously, ex 1: Mum put a large jar opener that needed to be washed after a year lost in the garage for “Ditzy” (not her real name) to wash…it sat there for three weeks before we got tired of it and washed it ourselves (well, mum did, she she SHOULDEN’T BECAUSE IT’S HEAVY), ex 2, I offered ‘Ditzy’ 60$ this month if she would help me organize my room which was still boxed up and slightly trashed from the room change a month or so ago. She spent two hours sitting there picking the lint off her pants while I worked because she ‘didn’t know where anything went’ (um, duh, that’s why the crap is still in boxes, no one knows where it goes).

Essencially, it’s just a lot of shit piling up at once. And I completely understand where she’s coming from, dude, it’s hard right now, life sucks big time.

But…It’s my home as well. I’m not just a roomate, I’m her fucking daugther (who else would pay 450, now 500$ a month rent for a room and kitchen access?! Plus, without my foodstamps? She ain’t eating.

It’s not just she promised I would never be without a home (which she has, several times, even swearing not to sell this house so I do always have it..but dude, it’s my childhood home! It’s where I grew up!

Plus, emotional issues aside, the house is trashed. The bathtub wall is coming off, it needs to be re-painted, the house stinks from years of smoking and pets who can’t figure out what a literbox is for (don’t even say it, I am doing everything I can, including owning two literboxes, I cannot figure out why Onii finds it repulsive and mus attempt to pee in my room), the front yard is molding (oregon rain + mold loves us), we have a serious ant problem, and there are cracks in the freaking windows (stupid fucking contractor).

The house won’t sell! Not only at a reduce price! Plus, land value around here SUCKS!

So yeah, I’m having a major depression/panic attack about that, on top of the two week depression funk that was so bad I was scared of what I might do to myself. I’m…not in a good space right now, yeah know? I feel as if my whole future is spinning out of control and one day I’m going to wake up and everything’s going to have gone wrong.

Which is probably why it’s 4.06am and I’m awake…can’t sleep, life will eat me. And I have a 2pm eye doctor’s appointment…fuck.

Which reminds me, the doctor (not Jackie, the one before her, Rachita) was AWSOME on Monday. I walked in, ready for a battle to convince him of my arthritis pain and within a sentence he knew exactly what I was on about and gave me meds for it. Apparently, when I had the flu two week ago, my body started attacking my joints, giving me a temporary (hopefully!) form of arthritis. Have to take a fuck lot a pills for it, but thankfully it’s not continuous!

He so rocked that appointment! I feel bad for every mean thing I said about him…and now he’s MOVING! I have to attempt to find another new GP or stay with the quack, Jackie, who can’t even remember my name…either of them! *sobs*