I try to remain a positive person.
I try not to use the popular phrase fuck my life.
I mean, the people I hear using it are usually just having a bad day, and are quick to bitch and moan. Suck it up, buttercup, not every day will be sunshine and roses.
But seriously…I reached the point I could not get it- fuck my life- out of my head the other day. I felt horrible, because I know others have it worse than me, that my life could actually get worse. Maybe I just wanted the pity party.
My car broke down almost, what, three weeks ago. No biggie…It cost me two hundred bucks and I’ve had it almost two years. I won’t be getting it fixed, because it has a lot of other problems, this newest problem just killed her.
So I borrowed my parents mini van for a week. Then I picked up my baby- my Camaro. I’ve had her for nearly five years, and she’s a brat, but I love her. Usually.
Friday, the day after bringing her back to my apartment, I’m going to run to Perkins for lunch before work. Only my Camaro won’t start. Um. What the fuck. I try again and again. Absolutely nothing.
I get a ride to work from my sister, and the boyfriend picks me up. Work was long and just overall very trying. My back was also killing me. I was hoping maybe I could avoid back pain, but the last few days my back has been killing me. Pregnancy is painful!
Anyways. The boyfriend got a new job at a different restaurant and he asked me to help him study the menu for his test he had tonight.
I was depressed over both of my cars being dead, his drinking (he’s cutting back, but even when he wasn’t working for like a month he kept buying alcohol which means the utilities, rent, and the doctor bill all falls on me and yeah, it’s stressing me out), and I was in physical pain.
By then, he’s on the computer and I’m laying on the couch. I get up and head slowly to the bedroom. He asks what’s wrong and I said I’m in pain. He just says oh, and goes back to the computer.
Oh? OH? I would have liked to hear “would you like a back rub?”
I asked him for one once recently. He bitched and complained. Finally did it, and complained whilst doing it. I won’t ask again.
I pretty much cried myself to sleep.
Today I’m not focusing on my problems so I’m not as depressed. But my back is killing me, and I’m cursing myself for agreeing to work Monday. Eight days in a row…I remind myself the over time will be nice.