My Dad decided it was my turn to babysit Markie while he went and played poker with his friends down at the apartments.
Which would've been alright, except it's Friday night and I don't want to stay home, but have to, save experiencing death, damnation, and consecration.
So I decide that I might as well clean out my room. I haven't done this in a while. I have so much clothing I can't fit it into my closet so I decided to take out the stuff in the back and put it in bags, clean out my drawers and wash t-shirts that had been sitting for awhile.
My dad comes home around 9 and sees me sitting there with my clothing strewn everywhere, starts ripping papers off of my door (I have a collage etc. on it), kicks over my two acoustic guitars and breaks the strings on one of them.
So I'm not allowed to leave the house because I tried to clean my room now? And Markie is sticking cheese on the walls in his room and laughing about the man he is making, "oh, the cheese man aha, haha, hahaha".
So I have to wash the wall in Markie's room.
Then I decide to take a bath and paint my toenails and do gh3y girl things because that's all there is to do at this point, find out that my other brother has diahreah and the bathroom with the bathtub smells digusting, I can't walk in there, let alone spend an extended time in a bathtub.
Decide to go on the computer, yes! there is no one on because it's Friday, consider just leaving, but realize I am already in my pajamas and have no where to go, anyway.
My computer shuts down because of a Trojan Revop C that I don't know how to get rid of.
I go in my room and lay on the floor. Write in my notebooks, listen to XTC and fall asleep thinking of people who probably don't care about me.
Tonight is The Crayons! with Julie, Michelle, and Rosey. Hopefully it will make up for my amazingness.
At least Friday was good, even if we did get lost, even if I never get to smoke or drink because I am always driving, even if I have to bleed the breaks in my car now and my dad is making me do it myself, even if today I have to restring one of my guitars because they are busted and hanging out like distraught spaghetti.