Today is yet another day where I get to hear through the ever thinning walls of our house how I’ve fucked something up, how I’m stupid, an idiot, a bitch, or whatever expletive you wish to imagine for having others blame me for everything wrong in their lives.
I wake up early, I’m in the way, too loud, too grumpy. I wake up late I’m a lazy bum, worthless, waste my days. Same deal with chores, I do them and it’s hearing how much I waste water, or energy, or detergent. I don’t do them they never get done; “I had a long day, I don’t want to come home and clean,” “I don’t want the laundry running when I get home,” “I don’t want your laundry running when I want to do mine,” “I can’t do the laundry cause the stairs hurt”.
I do nothing and I’m at fault for adding to other people’s workload. I do something and I never ‘do it right’. I’m tired of the double standards and the fact that even when I try I’m never enough for anyone.
I guess today I’m just off-put that my mom and brother insist on putting mushrooms in one half of a lasagna. Then neither of them want to eat their share of the leftovers. They know I won’t touch the mushroom side, but I’ll happily have the rest. Seems like a simple enough solution right? Yet mushrooms keep going in half the thing. So now, even though I goddamn like lasagna, can make it alone, and we don’t even have it that often, it’s still all my fault, and added to the list of things my brother will throw a hissy fit over.