What the Hell Am I Doing Here?

It is likely that hundreds and hundreds of super balls are bouncing their way down Woodstock at the moment. I'm trying to avoid bitterness at the thought that I should be there with the crowd catching them, throwing them, being pelted by them.

This week just hasn't improved one bit, really. Started it off being angry, and that just continued. Plus things got sucky. I really need to get the hell out of this house. I'm so sick of putting up with my dad's bullshit. It's even more galling to deal with it now, having been away for two and a half years. So yes, moving out would be good. But would also require having a job, and therefore also requiring working while going to school, which I don't really want to do, because I drive myself crazy enough with just the school part. But then, I don't know how many more conversations that suddenly turn into bellowed scoldings (complete with unanswerable questions) I can take without snapping completely.

At least I'll have a car by the time I start school again. Right now it's two cars for three people. Both cars in use during the day by both parents, unless I have definite plans. As if I'm happy to be stuck at home until four every day when I don't have definite plans. And they wonder why I sleep all day. (So many reasons to do so, so few not to.)

I'm not going to be bitter or angry about missing Renn Fayre this year. Already taken care of that one. Too numb to keep it up.