My mother is officially driving me crazy!
I am this close to going to get a pack of cigarettes…
I can’t even begin to tell you the myriad ways in which she is torturing my ass, but let me tell you, I am slowly going crazy, and she’s only been here for three days!
I want a cigarette so badly. I want to go somewhere in a small space, and hide from Hurricane Mummy. She doesn’t even care what I want, she only wants what she wants when she wants it, and broken arm, busted up leg whatever, I must jump as soon as her simplest whim is spoken, and bend completely to accommodate her or it’s a spiralling Guilt Trip Du Jour!
:sigh: It’s bad enough she has been cleaning and recleaning my apartment, so now I can’t actually find the majority of my things, but everytime I protest about her heavy handed domineering, I am trying to ruin her Christmas and she is never returning to Trinidad, she announces in the most wounded guilt-inducing tone she can muster. She doesn’t even ask my opinion when she moving things and ‘re-decorating’ my fucking house! I just go to get something and it’s not there.
I don’t know which is worse, my father’s alcoholic three day harbinger of last year, or this incessant nagging my mother is doing.
She either makes fun or dismisses almost every comment I make about my spiritual life; she has already told me twice I need to grow up when I tried to talk to her about going to England. Then looked at me, wounded, and asked me why I was locking my bedroom door… “Because you don’t knock and wait Mummy, you knock and walk in… and that just ain’t privacy.”
No, I must come outside and entertain her right motherfucking now.
I dunno man, this is just not fun for me right now. I want a cigarette so badly, and she’s blowing the smoke of her cigarette in my face every opportunity she gets.
Keep me honest.
Don’t get me wrong, we’re not screaming at each other… it’s just I forgot how much she fucking nags!!
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