The Worst Day I Can Remember

My horoscope said not to do anything today. Just keep to myself and concentrate on other things like writing or playing video games.

I should have listened to it.

This morning, my mom and my sister went off to Best Buy to check out a computer deal. I went along to see if they were selling School Tycoon. They weren't.

I should have never went along, though.

Once my quest was over, I was turned into the private family IT again. My mom needed information on this, that, and the other involving computers. Why? Well, I can tell you this much, it wasn't for me.

I was promised a new computer for getting into college. I never got it, and it's mid-terms of the second semester for me. No, this new computer was for my sister. Why did she take priority? Well, she always has. Today, however, is special, because there's a reason. She's going out of state for college. She will need a place to go to type up her papers and all that fun stuff. So, she took priority.

While waiting for all the rebates and receipts to print out, I kept feeling like I got the shaft yet again. Worst still, I didn't realize it until we were at the check-out counter. My sister caught this first, and then my mom eventually got the hint. She told me why my sister was taking priority on getting a new computer and assured me that I'll get one eventually. I took that promise like I take my fries when I cook them, with a grain of salt.

Eventually, after everything was said and done, I became the pack mule. I had to clean out the trunk of the SUV, put the boxes of the new computer in, and take them back out again once we got home.

Thinking that I finally escaped my blight, I retired to my room to spend some time by myself. I then noticed out the corner of my eye that someone put one of my pieces where they shouldn't be. I went over to see what was up. My mom cleaned my room.

That's when I saw something that just made me so mad that I actually told the world to fuck off and leave me alone.

That 3-D assignment that gave me a whole lot of hell, the one that ended up looking like a chair, was broken. Logic told me it was because of my mom when she was gathering the scraps of foam board. I spent too damn long on that project, and it had to get broken by someone other than myself. Normally, if it broke and I was to blame, then I would get over it before the hour was up. However, this is not the case. Someone else broke my art. Someone else broke something I put my blood, sweat, and tears into. Be it accidental or on purpose, someone broke it. Someone touched something that was sacred to me.

I stormed up to my mother and yelled at her. I told her how she broke it, and in her ignorance, she thought that it could be fixed oh-so-easily. She will never understand what that means to me. I knew that the moment she offered to help by taping it back up. I told her to leave and never enter my room ever again. She fired back that this was her house.

This may be "her" house, but I don't go into their room and mess with their things. I don't display her Virgin Mary nesting doll my aunt got her from Russia the way I feel it needs to be displayed. I don't go in there and rearrange her furniture. I don't go in there and mess with her sheets. Hell, at the most, the only reason I go into her room is to use the bathroom since mine doesn't have a shower! How is it that she can get away with touching my things and cleaning up my room with the logic that this is her house and I have no say in what goes on in it?!

Pissed off at how little respect I get for my personal stuff, I turned the stereo in my room louder than I've ever dared to go and put in my Linkin Park CD. The bass alone made my water bottle do that ripple thing that Jurassic Park made famous. With all the angry songs on the CD, nothing was able to absorb the vibe. About three tracks into the CD, I found myself cuddling, actually clenching on to for dear life, with my Rocky the Flying Squirrel plushie. I held it close to my heart for some kind of comfort. I never got it. All that got me was a soggy plushie due to the sweat and tears that ended up falling on it. I then tried to sing and get my frustrations out that way. I sang and belted my voice to the point where it hurts to talk. Still nothing.

I came downstairs to go to take a piss, to which my sister said that she was almost done using the computer. The old one, not the new one. The new one hasn't been connected yet. I didn't respond. I went to the bathroom and took a piss. After which, I then told her that I was not feeling good today. Today has been nothing but shit to me. Then my mom made herself known. She asked me something, but I completely ignored her. I'm still hurt by the fact that she moved my art, and a piece I spent so long on no less, only to break it as well as thinking that it could be fixed just as easily as she broke it.

So here I am, blogging about my day. I don't want anything else to happen to me. I really don't. I don't want to get angry any more. I just want to be alone with someone that knows how to take care of me. Unfortunately, that person is several states away right now. And I'm still not feeling any better. In fact, I'm feeling worst after blogging this. I feel worst because I know that this is the only way I can get people to actually listen to me... and all this is just text with very little emotion behind them.

Damn it, Bill, I need you now more than ever! You don't know how much I need you right now!