Eh, I'm just so pissed off today.  Woke up to more banging and stomping by My Fucking Father.  I should have moved back to my old room instead of Grandmother's so I would have to hear that asshole storm back and forth between the kitchen and pantry.

Thus I was so tired at work.  Even for half a day I was pooped.  I was tirangry.  Never should be happening, especially now.

I was bracing for my dumb shenanigans at this stripper's place while I restore her iPad.  But actually, things worked out.  That allowed me some peace and quiet at a part where I tried to take a nap but couldn't.

My Fucking Father was pissed about something.  That's why I put my defenses up -- no talking, tense body language, eat as fast as possible, wash the old mask as fast as possible, iron the new mask as fast as possible.

But then My Fucking Mother calls me out for some help.  Turns out she tried to dispute a credit card charge I think she just changed her mind on, and the credit card company rejected her because she didn't send them the letter they wanted.  So now, this weekend, I need to help them write a fucking letter ... past the deadline at which the credit card company closed the case ... without being able to type anything at all ... and while My Fucking Mother is still trying to remember the details of what happened.

Fuck it, I hate everything and everyone right now.