31 candles on my cake

Well I’m 31 today and I feel no different than when I turned 30. Still no job, didn’t get back to school, and the best part the old bitch is coming up to wish us a happy birthday, THEN harass us about getting a new dining table! Ain’t life grand? Three years ago the old bitch bought us a $2k dining table from the ghetto Macy’s (that happens to look JUST LIKE HERS) under the pretense that we’ll have dinner parties like this was 1987. We can’t have K. over to do the taxes because the old bitch doesn’t want to hear any noise from strangers (K. being black doesn’t make shit any better). Still K. comes over and does our taxes- TOUGH ASS OLD BITCH!

Then she’ll start on all the camera equipment my bro archer has in the corner of the living room for the umpteenth time. It’s enough that she’s codependent and the fact that she’s 80-years-old makes her near impossible. I know that as we age the processors in our brains slowly degrade, and we need things to be more black and white to feel secure. And if an elderly person is LOGICALLY challenged, that person will become more combative and obstinate. The old bitch also has made tremendous mistakes and pissed away money, and when we bring that up she won’t respond or she becomes a wildcat. And then when Mom, archer, or I talk about getting lives of our own she gets this pathetic look on her face. She knows what’s coming. We need out of here. It was our fault we didn’t teach her to become acclimated to life on her own earlier, but we weren’t normal. Conservatives will call us lazy, but if your back is against the wall and all you could do is stand stalk-still because you’re white and people laugh when you ask for a low-wage job in NYC, what else is there?

But at least I know I’m a person and not a punching bag.

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