I was just called lazy by one of my closest friends. Which I find HILAREOUS because she damn well knows all that I do in a week and how exhausted it makes me. Yes, I was laying about doing nothing with my puppies and have been for days. Why? Because I’m utterly exhausted.
Let me take you through the list of all the things I do on a daily, weekly and monthly basis:
- I do the monthly budget and fight every couple of days to try and keep my 30-something-year-old child roommates on it (but still end up failing anyway but that fact doesn’t seem to stop them from whining about being broke or bills not being paid).
- Until recently, I did all the cleaning. The one chore I no longer do around here is the dishes because I HATE doing them so much and now have one of my roommates doing them instead. Why?
- Because I do all the damn cooking around here. And the only time I’m not cooking is when Mr. J decides he wants to make a HUGE pot of chili that we couldn’t possibly eat fast enough before it goes bad, so we end up wasting about 5 pounds of food each and every time.
- I’m searching for a job, filling out applications online mostly because the neighborhood I live in is so not safe to walk in, even children don’t play outside in their own yards because it isn’t safe (I mean, how many times do I need to tell people every week or month that yet another person has been shot on my street or yet another girl we see walking everyday has gone missing before they realize, I don’t not walk because I enjoy being a closet case, shut-in. I’m actually uncomfortable about leaving the house by myself because ain’t NOBODY safe out this bitch)
- I take care of my dogs and cats which includes cleaning up after them, training sessions, bathing and keeping up with their food and water.
- I write in my blog which I’m sure will get me famous someday (it’s already starting to happen. yay!)
- I run a cafepress, zazzle and etsy shops. I am the household seamstress. When someone needs something mended, patched or altered, they come to me.
- I make sure my roommates aren’t late for work since no one seems to believe in setting alarms in this bitch.
And I do all of this without anyone’s help and I get bitched at on a monthly basis that I don’t do anything around this bitch and have no right to bitch, whine or moan about anything because I’m the one being pampered. So, yes, being called lazy even in a joking manner is enough to make my hair stand on end and make me want to rip somebody’s face off.
The moral of the story? Keep your ignorant ass, mouth shut. You never know what someone else might be going through and you never know what might end up being the very last straw that sends them into work with an RPG and a bomb strapped to their chest talkin’ about “I’m crazy, huh? I’ll show you crazy!”
And I’ll leave you with this quote from a song of the same title as this blog post, “I’m a little disfunctional, don’t ya know. If you push me it might be bad.”
Click here to here the song. It’s been stuck in my head on and off for weeks now.