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Sunday, 29 December 2013

I need longer vacations

Aunt A sent gifts. I remembered who each of those was supposed to go to. And delivered all of them. Problem? One of the gifts was initially intended to stay, and be given to LC4's soon to be little sister. When I reminded aunt A that she was missing a present for another baby, she just gave me that and said she'd get BCM's newborn something else. All the other babies already had presents, mind you. Turns out the baby who was missing her present was 9 months old and could not possibly fit into the 0-3m clothes. That's aunt A's bad planning for a) not buying this baby something in the first place and b) deciding to recycle a gift intended for a baby who was an entirely different age. How was I supposed to know how old this other baby was? Well, aunt A is never fucking WRONG so it stands to reason that it was me who obviously fucked up. Hearing mum tell me about this clarification from aunt A made me cry.

It did. I'm only here for another week and that means that in one short week I go back to the horrible old hag who is right even when she's blatantly wrong and it's somehow all my fucking fault. Now I know she'll have some kind of lecture for me. How dare I be mistaken? How dare I not remember the lie she came up with on the spot when told she made a mistake? She didn't label all the gifts (she didn't label any of them) and that's somehow going to be my fault too because I told her I'd remember who each of the gifts went to (which I did) but I forgot she'd forget and blame any mistakes on me. FUCK. Another bloody year of that! Another. fucking. year! Not until it's over, no. That's just until I get to escape again. It will be another year and a half until I'm done and it's already been a year and a half too long. 


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