That aside, I'm crying right now. Because there's no food. When my parents came home half an hour ago, they claimed that there was plenty of food in the fridge. I don't know if they're seeing something I don't inside the fridge because there's really nothing. Zero. Nada. Zilch. Unless they expect me to eat the condiments, which I wasn't desperate enough to do.
It's days like today when I miss being in school. It takes only two flights of stairs and a walk across the cafeteria to get my fix of corn dogs, fish fillet, and a million other things made of egg. Oh, and I miss the people at Table E too. The people who would eat my food before I even touched it -- they're the siblings I never had. Now I only eat at the coffee table with no one to share my food with, save for a dog that's just waiting for scraps to fall to the floor.
It's days like today when I miss being in school. It takes only two flights of stairs and a walk across the cafeteria to get my fix of corn dogs, fish fillet, and a million other things made of egg. Oh, and I miss the people at Table E too. The people who would eat my food before I even touched it -- they're the siblings I never had. Now I only eat at the coffee table with no one to share my food with, save for a dog that's just waiting for scraps to fall to the floor.
See, I was here all day on my own, and I wasn't allowed to open the stove and they locked me in because they don't trust me enough and they think the dogs would have a seizure or something if nobody's looking out for them. And on top of that, my mom's imposing all these post-midnight Cinderella duties on me because the housemaid's run off.
It's not that I hate doing chores, because I genuinely enjoy doing them when I'm in the mood. I like floor-sweeping while listening to Miniature Tigers. It's therapeutic. But it's an entirely different story when I'm not in the mood (i.e. when I've got things to do, like reaching my reading quota or writing a chapter), and I'm forced to hold a broom.
Cleaning, for a completely disorganized and untidy person such as myself, is something people do when they haven't got anything to do. And why would I opt to clean anything when I can just read instead? I have heaps of things I want to do and books I want to read chapters and I want to write and I'd probably get to do all of them them, had they allowed me to enjoy the company of myself and not the company of dirty laundry.
Cleaning, for a completely disorganized and untidy person such as myself, is something people do when they haven't got anything to do. And why would I opt to clean anything when I can just read instead? I have heaps of things I want to do and books I want to read chapters and I want to write and I'd probably get to do all of them them, had they allowed me to enjoy the company of myself and not the company of dirty laundry.
But they didn't, and this is my angst making a blog post when I'm supposed to be scooping out my little dog's poop. I still hadn't eaten anything since that sausage I had lunch and I can't believe I'm being bothered by all of this when it's April.
