Vexation

I (dramatic pause) am VEXED. This has really been just a crappy month/after Christmas altogether. I didn't go to econ this morning (once again) because I was up until 2 30 with Mark and was far too tired to go. And then I was almost late for Spanish, which is never good, but hey, it was a crappy class anyway, so I might as well have been. And then I got practically no homework done this afternoon, and I can't even remember what I did with my day. Highlight: I got to see my bit on the side whom I haven't seen in far too long (and, by the by theb, I've decided to take music 103 for fine arts requirement after all).

Trying to plan out next year's schedule was incredibly frustrating and I need to go see an advisor, I think. Thursday. GOD! I hate uni right now. And then I went to History, and only stayed for half of it because it was boring as hell and I was doing Spanish instead anyway. And then I lied to my prof so I could get my essay outline at break so I wouldn't have to stay for the whole class. Great.

Fricken hell, I tried to do so well on my essay outline and instead I got a pointed "learn how to use a database" comment. And then she told me that my format was wrong, which she didn't tell us how to do in the first place. In fact, I believe her example of an essay started with "In this essay I will..." GAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH. If anything, one would think that a university prof, especially a history prof, would know that that is NEVER the proper way to start an essay. EVER. Seriously, I just want to throw a book of essays at her and tell her to go back to english 10. Hell, go back to Grade 7 Language Arts. Seriously woman, Siberia couldn't have been that lacking. Well, it could have, but obviously she managed to become a prof.

And all this crap on floor is getting to me a little. I'm trying to be impartial, but sometimes I just want to shake people and tell them that none of this really matters. However.

And my mum called me last night and talked to me for a fricken hour. Half of which was her crying and whining over the phone about how stressed she is and how daddy is being mean to her and how she can't handle everything and Mary-Ellen What Should I do?!. You know what, just once I would really like HER to be the parent. Just ONCE. I'm tired of trying to manage her life and tell her everything is going to be okay and suggesting things she could do when she tells me its not going to work, no matter what I tell her. I'm tired of being the parent. Just once, I would like HER to tell ME that everything is going to be okay, and what I should do to solve all of my problems. Frickin just stop being the martyr all the time, because you know what, I have my own life to manage and try not to screw up without having to manage yours. Did you ever stop to think that maybe I'M not alright? Did you ever stop to think that maybe I'M still having problems dealing with grandma's death? Did you ever stop to think that maybe it's not MY JOB to keep your marriage from falling apart? No, I didn't think so. You never have.

You know what, I'm done. With everything. I just want to get through the rest of term without chucking myself out a window, because at this point, I'm there. Show me to the nearest window.