Pettiness is wearying.
Wearing ‘chemo’ scarves because she doesn’t like how the hairdresser cut her hair. Then crying around the house as though someone had died. I’ve never heard her cry like that for when someone was actually dead or ill; she keeps the gut-wrenching crying and banshee screaming for pettiness. Then she moves towards screaming about how ungrateful my sister and I are because we didn’t use all our savings (we didn’t have any at the time) to keep her and dad from using retirement funds for her cancer treatment 5 years ago. If its not that, I’m disgusting to look at, or don’t do anything to deserve a single present for Christmas. Then we move back towards how all the prayers and Rosaries don’t matter if “you’re a bitch! It won’t make a difference!” Oh, yeah. If I’m not a bitch in December, then she’ll call me a lesbian having affairs with priests in July.
… back to a test, two papers, and networking with people about code violations at work.