Domicile Abuse

 I am in an abusive relationship.

There I said it, it's out in the open. And I know the house loves me so I'm going to keep living here despite the bruises and broken bones. At least until I can find a house that loves me better. Though even then I'll probably keep coming back.

This isn't anything new. I keep making excuses, saying how it's my fault but really is it? That concussion, I said it was because I flipped my head while drying my hair. I might be blind and clumsy but the house uses this to its advantage.

The beatings have become more frequent of late. My elbow bruise hadn't even changed color before my finger was broken. My feet have bruises top and bottom from bottles of shampoo and bars of soap being tossed at me while I'm trying to bathe.

I'm not leaving. Not until it's bad. Bad is a broke fever or cancer or something.

If I don't make it give the sheep a kisses for me and the teddy bears too. You can have my shoes. I love you guys but I love the house too.

Mouse Traps

I have this whole humane thing when it comes to animals, so the mice kind of roam free in the house (as long as they don't get in the food, that's gross). There have been some very interesting personalities this year among the mice and they are super cute to boot. Our latest visitor is a bold little mouse who stared at mother while she read in bed before exiting her room under her door and teasing the cat for a little bit and heading into my closet.

This isn't a big deal the mouse in the closet, the cat routing around my shoes, no biggy.

So I went to bed and slept and the cat came and went from my room several times. At 5:30 AM I woke up to something crawling up my back. It was that mouse. The cat was asleep at the foot of my bed growling in his sleep as he always does. The mouse was on my back, scampering around. The cat was asleep at the foot of my bed.

So, yeah, the cat and I aren't on speaking terms. I had to stand up to get the mouse off my back, strip my bed to make sure he wasn't hiding in my blankets and then try to sleep for another two hours in fear of another attack.

Someone want to trade me cats?

A Drink or A Cry But I Can't Cry Over a Drink

I was super excited about taking that test. And after 10 months sans tests I knew I'd be rusty but I know tests. I had it, not in the bag, but I had it. So I got my results today, I missed passing by 12.6 points. Now I'm sitting here typing this drinking hot chocolate, I might cry. Not because I didn't pass, that happens sometimes but because right now not passing hurts too deep. I can't let it go, I need to get away and I can't.

I could have a drink, but drinking alone defeats the purpose in this case and I have to be at work at 7, as does my geographically nearest friend, all the others are too far away. I know that drinking is not the answer and let me assure you that I actually drink on a fairly rare basis these days. But drinking is a very social activity for me, not as in I need to drink to be social, but more drinking occurs and good times are had sometime between a beer and falling asleep on the floor of some friends parents' house (because at 23 most of us cannot find lucrative enough jobs to move out of our parents homes).

The upside is I have an interview for what seems to be a potentially awesome but is also part time and in Baltimore. If another person points out how far the drive is, I will gather up all the hair that is dropping out of my head and sprinkle it in their bed. My hair is fine, it's a disgusting feeling, and I'm potentially balding again.

Maybe a panic attack is a good way to go?

Or I should buy a sports car... I'd prefer a pony but ponies don't speak directly of mid-life crisises.

Someone figure my life out for me and let me know when you do, I'll be eternally greatful.