bullet to the head

Today my dad offered to take me to work.

Seen as it takes me an hour to get in, I said, hell yeah.

But when I was actually in the car and mentioned conversationally that my TL scheduled me to work for 10 days straight without the compulsory 2 free days and to work 90 hours straight I was gonna talk to him as I was really annoyed with said TL (team leader).

Then my dear father told me that nothing was good enough for me, as I harp on any team leader I get, and nothing is ever good enough for me... and so on. I told him to let me out at the first bus stop, he countered that he promised to take me to work. And went on bitching, saying he only opened his mouth because I opened mine.

So I shut up, looked out of the window and refused to talk.

Once I was out I went in, logged into the network and hightailed it into the bathroom to cry for a good 5 minutes. Of course a coworker had to come in and she asked me what was wrong (I had the decency not to shut myself into one of the two toilets, because we only had 2 on the whole frikkin floor and she found me...). Surprisingly, she had something similar going on at home. It felt so good to find out I'm not the only miserable "kid" around.

Of couse my father had the decency to apologize later. I told him I'd have preferred he did not start it right before work, as I had to run into the bathroom to cry and technically there went my first break and had to work for 2 hours straight afterward.

Then my fave coworker cranks up the AC so it's 15°C inside. After I just almost recovered from a cold. Suffice to say I had to fight with her to have a bit of warmth in the whole fucking floor. I don't get these crazy bitches. Were they raised in Iceland or something??

Anyway, I leave work, wait in the cheery 12°C with wind (with teeth!) for the bus and finally get home... only to see the windows open.

My dear, darling mother was nice enough to air out the smell of onions of the flat. It was a nice 25°C inside when I left. Now it's about 22°C and it's not helping my cold.

And guess what. When I tell her I asked her not to air out the warmth, because she will not turn on the heater, obviously, she closes the door in my face. I have never, ever felt such an urge to hit a person. But hell, I'm on the moral high ground this time. I'm not the one who hits people, she is. Mostly for her own enjoyment.

Hell, she only stopped hitting me at about 18 because I told her if she hits me, I'll hit her back, twice as hard, and will enjoy it immensely.


And now I will go off and play Prototype, because the tech guys today played it and I feel it might lift my mood a little bit.

Hate me yet? I kind of hate myself for saying such awful things about my mother... but on the other hand, she absolutely deserves it, and more. Have you ever known a person who never says she is sorry and acts like nothing she did was wrong and just turns around and really, really does not care whatever you say? She just turns up the volume of her TV and does not care. What kind of person can do that?