My Goddamn Meddling Fucking Mother

Mother volunteered to mix the mixture I need to drink today.  I told her she didn't have to, that I could do it.  She told me how much Gatorade I need for my mixture.  I told her wrong.

I was chilling in my bedroom trying to listen to Stephanie Miller.  I was going to show her the instructions as to how much Gatorade I need for this initial mixture.  I was afraid she was going to ignore me, and sure enough, when I went out to the kitchen to show her that, uh, I was wrong, and it's 16 oz. of Gatorade less, I saw her wrapping up these measuring cups.  She did.  She fucking did it.

Yeah, I made a mistake.  But I told her I was going to do it after I check the instructions.  She fucking meddled again.  My Fucking Father does this all the time and now My Fucking Mother does it.  Why can't they meddle on shit I need them for, like money?  I have six hours in which to make up this mixture, and because she "loves" me, she doesn't do what I say?

Oh yeah -- when I told her the mix is wrong, she said that she was right, she knew how much Gatorade to use, but "I don't listen to her."  Get the fuck outta here.  That might be more triggering to me than the fact she did what I asked her not to do.  The projection is such a trigger to me.  Fucking hate it.

I have to tell the nurse about this, as much as to blow off steam as to make sure this isn't a fatal mistake.