Friday, August 31, 2012

Poor baby... everyone probably knows exactly what I am talking about from reading those two words.
H has a toothache. And he wants to pull his tooth. He's near tears he's in so much pain. He's always in pain. If it isn't one thing, it's another.
So I got so fucking sick of his bullshit whining that I went and bought a super painkiller that's supposed to start working fast. $8
I found an extra ten in my wallet the other day so I had $20 cash. Notice, I don't spend every last cent before I get it.
LOL. He knows me too well. He just just came in to go to bed and said, "You complaining about how whiny I am?" In a kid's tone of voice practically.
I threw it to him in the living room and left the room and he got angry.
Why would I not be angry and stressed out when someone around me is in pain, constantly making groans of pain, faces of pain, and whining that their tooth hurts? Then the bleeping sound every time he gets a text...
"Oh I am so sorry H. That must be horrible for you!"
"Oh she hid the pills? What a bitch." (I can't find them anywhere for real.)
"Well I'm glad your dad finally got you some pain meds. Are you going to be okay?"
Not only will he not give me credit, because to his friends I only exist to be a pain in his ass, but instead of saying thank you he would just say, you didn't have to. Either way he is upset that I couldn't find them.
I have had a stomach ache pretty much every day since middle/high school. I probably at least cracked a bone in my hand. I nearly passed out on the bus from my cramps...
It's tiring. And now because I took the time to fucking help him out, maybe because I am a good person, it's too late to go to sleep and be able to get an appointment so I have to stay up all night again. God and he is already snoring the fucking bitch shitty old fag. There's my creativity coming out...
He whines, shoves away my help and then whines some more until I have to help him in order to get him to shut up.
I have got to be the nicest person ever seriously... and yet I get treated like a piece of trash. So tired of all of this... I really am.
I realized something sad earlier. I went looking for the ibuprofin and after about a minute I had looked through all of my stuff and had gone through my entire list of possible places. A backpack, a purse, a bathroom bag, and on and in the dresser. That's it. That is all my stuff right there except for a black garbage bag full of clean clothes.
I should rename my blog "Life is never fair".
Ah what am I saying. I am such a whiny baby myself. I'm sure someone else had a worse life than me. I have no right to say any of this.

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