get me the fuck out of here
Oh my God, I've had it with my mother. Everything I say to her is somehow so offensive that it turns into a screaming match. I made ONE offhand comment about how I wanted to make as much money as possible this week so that I could afford to go shopping if I end up with a job in an office. She FLIPPED OUT. She gave me this cold, dirty look and said, I kid you not, "Well then I hope you don't get a job in an office." Riiiight, because working for $8 an hour at Eddie Bauer would obviously be better than a higher paying job in an office because I wouldn't have to go SHOPPING. Does this make any fucking sense to anyone? I should work somewhere for less money so I don't have to buy clothes. Seriously, I'm fucking stumped on this one.
Then she starts in on me about the time I spend on bluefly.com, a designer clothing discount site. She seriously yelled at me for spending TIME, but not MONEY, on a website. I think she's gone off the deep end. My favorite part was where she yelled at me for spending $50.00 at Ulta and using her credit card. Uh, you know why I did that genius? Because that $50.00 paid for a haircut that I still would not have gotten if it weren't for the fact that you begged me to do it and told me you'd PAY FOR IT! That's why the fucking $50 bucks is on your credit card statement. Because you fucking told me to put it there!
I'm sure the new job is going to help with my sanity, but getting the fuck out of this house is what would really do the trick. Only six more godforsaken months to go. Somebody start a countdown clock.