::
2011 4 August :: 11.34am
:: Music: Foster the People- Pumped up Kicks
Granted I am not a parent but i am pretty well fed up with watching others have constant issues with their kids and when it's just me and the kids there aren't problems.
Currently, mike has his work partner and her husband and 2 toddlers in our 1 bedroom. For starts... not fucking cool. For seconds... get the fuck out of my apartment with your screaming brats for the day. Pretty sure I said clear as day to get the hell out of here today because i can't fucking deal with it.... so why the fuck are you making them nap an hour and a half or 2 hours after they woke up?
I'm fed up with others. I need solace and confinement with the only noise being the noise I put on via music -- IF I want it. I have freelance work to do and I keep finding myself pulled into watching/ helping with the kids.
Please just go away.
----- edit-----
Apparently I scared the crap out of the dad because now (at 1:11 pm) they are going to the beach- finally. And he keeps trying to make the kids be quiet because I am blaring music and have not had anything to do with them all day.
who says flipping out doesn't work. At least I've finally been able to do some work.
--double edit---
what kind of 26/ 27 yr old goes and tattles to his younger wife that i told him to get out of the apartment for the day? "talks" tonight supposedly... but i think there are some freeloaders who need to buck up and live in the real world.
Sometimes it feels as though my emotions are cyclic. The same pings and pangs to my emotions with a different day, different person.... but really it's all the same.
I'm bored with life, and now when i am wanting to do something for myself I am stuck. It did a lot of good to make car payments for the last 5 years just to have the car want to blow up now. with 5 payments left. In fact if it weren't for the money we have sank into it I would just tell the bank to take the damn car, but alas november it will be paid off and perhaps then we can fix it. but it doesn't do me a shred of good now.
As far as design goes, i am doing some freelance, and having some possible good things appear to be happening. I'm excited and scared all at once. All I can hope is that things will work out.
so I finally put up the deuces, and for good reason too.
The idea that I was being played was apparent, but I didn't mind as long as it wasn't staring me in the face. Last Tuesday it spit in my face and I was left with no choice. Really I should have drawn this conclusion in the beginning. too bad because that ass is seriously tax deductible. I mean that in the nicest sense.
what was nice as well was the back up that I got from everyone.
But worry not, you think I don't have a back up plan? pfff... I don't really. But you know me, perpetually on the prowl.
This is a letter I've been meaning to write for awhile.
To You,
Can you explain something to me? How is it that he's been back in town for almost a week now and you've slept with me for 5 out of 6 of the nights?
When you were arrested, who did you call first to come pick you up? Who drove you to get your car from the towing company? Who talked you down until 9 in the morning?
If you didn't look so good in my Rooney jersey when you aren't wearing any pants I'd probably not have let you stay and although I may have played the "point to the couch and tell you to get the fuck out" story line in my head I cannot follow through for the life of me
Sometimes, I wish I was a cold beer.
You are considerably hindering my ability to get some whilst augmenting it at the same time.
This song, while its meaning likely different from my interpretation, seems to lay out the one consistent dilemma that I find myself in, and which usually gets me in trouble in the end.
I do feel as though it's a bit narcissistic to try and describe you're own life...