Undone

Possibly the worst day at work ever.

I’ve been told that i’m whiny (okay so YES, I am, but you got to do what you do best, right?), Lame, *mutters off a few questionable words she’s been called* and i’m not feeling so awesome about it.

Cause everyone loves being called a bitca, and it’s so much fun being told that you’re the wet blanket and annoying….. I know I am. I know i’m the outcast at work. I know that no one there likes me that much, and that they’d really like to vote me off of the little island that is the store. I’m not their favorite person. I’m not anyone’s favorite ANYTHING. Cause i’m me, I keep it real, and i say what needs to be said. And Yeah, I’m a nice girl. I’m trying to stop swearing so much, and i’m trying to be nicer, and i smile my way through being called all these horrible things… and i don’t know how i’m going to do it anymore.

really. I love my job. and I love working there, i really enjoy Artemis and Gert…. They’re funny and they’re great. They tease me, but it’s okay, because i know them more than i know THE MOUTH…. i know it’s insane … i know that i need to give him more of a chance to get to know me… and me to know him….

but from what i’ve seen so far I dont’ care to know him. At all. Ever. No. I hope he gets his tongue cut out by some thief on the street. I wish he would…. I wish he could just learn to control that blasted MOUTH OF HIS! It’s like he has no consideration for another human being ever.

I’d never consider myself ‘straight-laced’ not even. No way. But I figure, first comes the friendship, then the casual joking and the calling of names. When I know he doesn’t really mean it. NOW, I don’t know that. It’s a thing that I don’t know. I don’t have a tough skin. I’m not a brave girl. And yeah, when he calls me a bitch, i want to sit down and cry. But I can’t because there’s work to be done, and things to do.

*mutters* What a jerk.

Oh Yeah. I have a test tomorrow… .how much does that suck?

Derringer Meryl [Exhausted] Out

here’s some more of that grey matter exploding fun–

It’s the Memorial day weekend, and despite how much we may sedate my father with SSRI’s he’s still a grumpy ass monkey. He has mood swings that make mine pale in comparison. He assumes (not unlike me) that every one knows exactly what is going on inside of his mind, that when he snaps his fingers and says “That one thing, you know?” we all completely understand him, but are just being rude jackasses.

I guess we learned it from him.

I don’t know why he irratates me so– Maybe it’s because he’s so lukewarm. Some days he’s my dad. MINE, you know, and I can be his little girl…. and other days I’m my mom’s. I remember so vividly from when I was little …. he got angry about something– and yelled at my mom that “One of her damn kids must have done it.” we were always the easy scapegoat. always.

and i’ve always wondered if it was better to have a lukewarm, mood swing dad, than no dad at all. Then I remember what Christ said (and trust me, he’s like Buddha and Ghandi in the way that most of his stuff made a WHOLE lotta sense) “Be ye hot, or be ye cold, but be not lukewarm lest I spit ye out of my mouth.” Err something like that. It boiled down to “Be bad, be good, be something, cause being in the middle, just pisses me off.”

I’m sure I condemned myself with that last line… eh.

I told my boss, the real flaky one who had like 4 kids from two different women, and only one of them while he was married to the mother. *shakes her head* I told him, that he had such potential to be a great dad. That I wanted him to be what my dad was never for me. Sure, my dad changed a lot for me, he went to school so he could raise me right—

But I don’t know. Some of the things he’s done. Like making me afraid of getting married, or dating– afraid of loving someone– I already know that I pick scummy guys. They seem nice and pretty on the surface, but that’s the cheap gold gilding they put on until I’m in too deep. Then it all flakes off and then– then i’m stuck with a crap load of bad memories, and an extreme skittish-ness.

I don’t walk on the bad side. In fact, I’m pretty sure I walk no where near it. I admire it from afar, where it still looks enticing, and say “Wow, bad side, That’s neat.” and keep going my merry way. I’m safe and secure, and so deeply entrenched in my shell that no one can even tell by the stupid mask I put on. I try my damnedest to keep true to how i’m feeling– but…. I wouldn’t be able to leave my house, walk through a crowd, or talk to anyone outside of my family (or my second family of co-workers). It’s hard– I hate being touched. I don’t even like to be touched by my own family. Not my dad, my siblings– my mom is about the limit. She’s always right. *sighs* I don’t know how to explain it. I don’t touch customers, I dont touch teachers, I dont’ like hugging my fetchin’ therapist. Amy, My mom, Carolyn…. and that’s about it. Notice very carefully that no guys fall into that VERY short list.

why? because despite how well i get along with guys, I think it happens to be a case of keep your friends close, but your enemies closer. Don’t get me wrong– I love my guy friends, they’re all great, and while some of them have the tendency to piss me off to no end– *sighs* i don’t hate them, obviously, otherwise they wouldn’t be on my list of friends (duh) but guys are the enemy. I guess I’m still psychologically at the “boys have cooties” stage of life. and I hate that. Because trust me, I’ve fallen for a guy before. So my brain is going “Hey, You don’t like them, they’re bad, they do bad things your mind and your heart, and you in general. You shouldn’t be doing this.” and my heart just keeps screaming “You need the contact, you need to take a chance, you need to love, you need to move past that stage– It could be that man that can love you forever.”

and It hurts. Like i always have a conflict going on inside of me, driving me a little— no a lot, crazy. and so — i leave you with the thoughts (echoing mine in every possible way) of Matchbox 20 in their new song Unwell

All day staring at the ceiling

Making friends with shadows on my wall

All night hearing voices telling me

That I should get some sleep

Because tomorrow might be good for something

Hold on

Feeling like I’m headed for a breakdown

And I don’t know why

But I’m not crazy, I’m just a little unwell

I know right now you can’t tell

But stay awhile and maybe then you’ll see

A different side of me

I’m not crazy, I’m just a little impaired

I know right now you don’t care

But soon enough you’re gonna think of me

And how I used to be…me

I’m talking to myself in public

Dodging glances on the train

And I know, I know they’ve all been talking about me

I can hear them whisper

And it makes me think there must be something wrong with me

Out of all the hours thinking

Somehow I’ve lost my mind

But I’m not crazy, I’m just a little unwell

I know right now you can’t tell

But stay awhile and maybe then you’ll see

A different side of me

I’m not crazy, I’m just a little impaired

I know right now you don’t care

But soon enough you’re gonna think of me

And how I used to be

I’ve been talking in my sleep

Pretty soon they’ll come to get me

Yeah, they’re taking me away

But I’m not crazy, I’m just a little unwell

I know right now you can’t tell

But stay awhile and maybe then you’ll see

A different side of me

I’m not crazy, I’m just a little impaired

I know right now you don’t care

But soon enough you’re gonna think of me

And how I used to be

Yeah, how I used to be

How I used to be

Well, I’m just a little unwell

How I used to be

How I used to be

I’m just a little unwell

Derringer Meryl [head exploding] out

Back to school.

The three words that drive fear into the heart of any senior. That includes me. I hate it there, and it hates me there, so I think we’d all just be MUCH happier if I didn’t have to go. Blah. It’s not like the councilors listen or do much anyway. In fact, I”m not really sure what they’re doing anyway. I mean I tell them that the kids at school make me feel a little…. what’s the word….

PSYCHOTIC

but it’s like Columbine never happened. They don’t listen to me, and I could tell them till I’m blue in the face. God. I tell my therapist too, and it’s like something I”m supposed to deal with. Yes, I should just deal with ON MY OWN a debilitating anger management problem. Because so far, I’m doing SO well. It’s like– They don’t even hear the words I”m saying. Like the things I’m saying aren’t clear. I guess that makes sense, because i don’t understand completely either. It seems fairly simple.

I get angry around people.

I am forced to be around LOTS of people

I get REALLY angry.

Now what? You’re just going to leave me there to destroy the unsuspecting masses? God I love the school districts here. It’s like they’re praying for someone to come a long and kill all of the little sponge cakes off. They ask for it, pray for it, something to ease the economic PAIN they THINK they’re in.

Deluded Bastards. Don’t know anything.

I guess everyone will be a little more than surprised when my basket breaks. I told them and told them I was a screw loose. Fair warning. So much for them listening.

Derringer Meryl [Lucky I don’t own a gun] Out

Finally.

After days and days of waiting to put an entry in here… I finally get to place an entry, so I better make it a doozy.

Right then.

I finally got to watch the Episode of Buffy called Lies My Parents Told Me and I happened to love it! Just like I thought I would…. I finally found out the name of the song that triggers Spike… *sighs* I am so happy, and I am currently downloading every copy of it I can find (by various singers)

Early One morning

Early one morning,

Just as the sun was rising,

I heard a maid sing,

In the valley below.

O, don’t deceive me,

O, never leave me,

How could you use

A poor maiden so?

Remember the vows,

That you made to your Mary,

Remember the bower,

Where you vowed to be true,

O, don’t deceive me,

O, never leave me,

How could you use

A poor maiden so?

Thus sang the poor maiden,

Her sorrows bewailing,

Thus sang the poor maid,

In the valley below.

O, don’t deceive me,

O, never leave me,

How could you use

A poor maiden so?

I LOVE it. Just because … because it’s useless trivia, and …. It sounds nice.

It’s haunting. Really. I think you’d have to hear it yourself to understand quite what i mean…

What else is really exciting?

Hm– Well despite my best intentions– I have done NO homework all weekend. Besides the fact that i’m fairly sure that Microsoft is the devil. I can’t even properly down– uhh… throw down.. their …. programs… right.

No– I feel that Microsoft charges TOO much for their HELL SPAWN (other wise known as Software), I mean $100 for a program like power point? What are my possibilities here? Um….

1- Do my work at school, where the computers suck and the mice are screwed up, and I can’t get on the internet, because half of the websites I go to that AREN’T porn come up saying they are. I mean c’mon. I’m not even allowed to do a fetching Google search.

2-Buy the software. Swallow my pride, chuck my money down the drain, because this one MASSIVE project is the only time I’m going to use it.

3- Pirate it. Simple, quick, free, and Microsoft will never taste any of my sweet sweet virgin money. Down with Microsoft!!

I know. I’m evil. I”m pretty sure I”m supporting communism… but you wanna know what? Bill Gates is making a good deal off of my school. I”m just going to pirate it for two weeks, then it’s delete-issamo. I don’t want it on my computer for ever!

Raspberries.

Flame me with Pirate-hate.

Arg

Derringer Meryl [Oh How could you use a poor microsoft so] Out

I recently complained that no one pays attention to me.

That’s a lie.

They pay plenty of attention to me when it’s useful to them. “Oh Meryl, You can help us in the yard!”, “OH Meryl, can you do this for the class? It’d be appreciated!”

BLAH BLAH BLAH. DO your homework, do your chores, do this do that, do your job, keep your head on straight

don’t have a mental break down Meryl!

Lord. *shakes her head* I’m tired. Oh God am I tried. I’m tired of all this work, and the fact that’s all I’m good for. Work. I”m a little work pony or something. Freak. *sighs* I do not mind helping out. I simply cannot do everything.

And whether you know it or not, YOU have asked me to do it all. I can’t solve problems, I can’t figure life out, and I don’t have time to write emails, hell!

I’m writing in here when I just told my mom I needed to do homework…. dammit. I can’t do everything. DOn’t ask me to, dont’ bug me about it…. just DON’T!

Okay? It’s not personal, no, it’s about me. Stop making it about YOU cause it’s ME! I don’t care what you think, I’m having some problems managing here, and I really don’t have TIME to listen to YOUR insecurities right now.

ALRIGHT? and I sure as hell dont’ have time to chop some dumb limbs up in the back yard. Not right now, not in the middle of the day. I’m a little busy.

If you needed me, you should have asked me to do it this morning, when it was slightly cool outside.

Derringer Meryl [Ready to Scream] Out

p.s. Oh yeah, dont’ tell me you feel flustered, and you dont’ think I understand your responsibilities and crap. I feel it, because everytime YOU’RE stressed it gets dumped on ME. Okay? I didn’t ask you to take on five things at once. I didn’t ask to be YOUR punching bag. I dont’ need it, and I surely dont’ want it. If you can’t treat me right, like a normal person treats another, then leave me alone.