I just hit my head against the wall so hard that I blacked out.
In other news, if you only see me for 10 minutes every week, don't spend those 10 minutes fucking nagging me about something. You're going to irritate me, and I AM going to tell you to go away, which is only going to piss you off.
Consider this: maybe I know that I'm fat, my room is a mess, or that I have to pay a bill. Maybe I've already told myself countless times whatever it is you're choosing to shove down my throat now, acting like I'm so unbelievably irresponsible that it's never crossed my mind.
My mother always says, "Someday you're going to be sorry."
You'd think she'd be sorry for using the only time she has to interact with me to lecture me like I'm twelve.
March cannot come soon enough.