I’m sick and tired of Dan forgetting things I tell him, then screaming at me later about it. Like our bank account. I told him what the balance was.
“Okay”, he says. And that’s that. Until this morning, when he calls me up to bitch about it. Dude, I TOLD you what it was. Stop beating the dead horse. Please.
My mom is a damn mess. Depressed and lazy and wanting everybody else to fix her problems. She maxed out my grandfather’s credit card and wants me to impersonate her and call up and fix it. And then wants me to take the fall with her when it comes to fessing up to the responsibility of the charges. When I had absolutely nothing to do with it. UGH.
Two days ’til moving. We have so much packed and moved over to the house, it’s great. But there’s stillĀ SO MUCH MORE HERE. I’m tired of packing.


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