mood: >:[ angry
music: Place for My Head – Linkin Park

If there’s one thing I hate about the world other than war and prejudice, it’s how much our lives are shaped by money.

Just had an argument with my parents about the furniture for my new apartment. You’d think most parents would be proud of their kids learning to be frugal and finding good deals and trying to save money. Especially if it’s the parents’ money. Not my parents; they get mad at me for being too thrifty. It seriously infuriates me.

I’d figured out a plan for my bedroom furniture: a bed, mattress, and desk from Ikea along with some stackable drawers from Target. Simple. Cheap. Practical. Even cute. Would probably be under $500. Pretty good, considering that all the rest of the furniture is already accounted for (my housemate Katie’s mom has a friend who left the country and gave them all of his stuff), right? Yeah, no, apparently not. My dad flipped a bitch about having to assemble the furniture. I was like, “DAD. You see my desk here in my room at home? And my bedside table? And my bookcase? Yeah, um, I ASSEMBLED THAT ALL BY MYSELF. WHEN I WAS NINE.” What the fuck is the big deal? He was like, “What if you assemble it wrong? No.” And I was like, “Are you serious? THEN YOU TEAR IT APART AND FIX THE MISTAKE.” What the hell? And then he tells me to look up furniture stores in Berkeley. No, that is freaking ridiculous! I’ll have to pay a gazillion dollars for the furniture, pay a ton for delivery, and then not be able to lift it myself. And it probably won’t be as cute as Ikea furniture anyway. GOD. And Ikea furniture is GREAT. I don’t care how shitty the make is, it lasts years upon years. And it’s SO CHEAP. It’s not like I’m moving into a fucking house with a family or some bullshit! It’s just a freaking college apartment. I am SO pissed. Can you tell?

My father is such a fucking snob. He wouldn’t even believe me when I said that my friends were taking secondhand beds up.

Who the fuck do you think you are? Believe me, I am more than grateful for how much bank he makes, but it gives him NO RIGHT to be ridiculous like this. It makes me so fucking angry. And of course my mother just sees it as him having the right to make the decisions regarding this kind of thing because the money that he wants us to splurge with is the money that he makes.

And all of this just makes me look like this stupid, cheapass, stingy bitch.

Jesus, sorry if there are things I’d much rather spend my money on. Like, um, FOOD. Or like, ELECTRONICS. Or BOOKS. Not fucking FURNITURE.

And trust me, this is not a one-time thing.

GAHHHHH SO MUCH RAGE

WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS? I AM THAT USER, DUMBASS.

Commission work can suck my balls. Every time I come across a problem, I calm my rage and trial-and-error my way out of it — only to come across ANOTHER problem. This is getting ridiculous. My head hurts.

Well! At least I’m certain now that this is not the career path for me! I don’t care how able/talented/creative anyone thinks I am, I seriously can’t deal with people depending on me for creativity like this. It’s not good for my mental health.

Where are you, Elaine-doppelganger?! I yearn for you everyday, to the point where I’m a little creeped out by myself. I keep trying to fit people in the box, and I absolutely adore all of them, but nobody else feels exactly right. Mark is no doubt my perfect complement, but I feel like I keep searching for somebody who’s exactly like me.

Is this the ultimate form of narcissism?!

Is this normal?!

Well, there goes all the hope that I worked so hard to gather.

FUCK MY LIFE.

FUCK IT

I WANT TO DIE

AND I’M LOSING

I’M MOTHERFUCKING LOSING THIS MOTHERFUCKING GAME SO MOTHERFUCKING BADLY IT BRINGS ME TO TEARS

You’re always the one being left behind, Elaine. Why don’t you just realize that and FUCKING STOP PUTTING YOUR FAITH IN THINGS THAT AREN’T GOING TO GIVE BACK

I WAS DOING SO FUCKING WELL TOO

I HAD PLANS, I HAD HOPE

I HATE MYSELF I HATE MYSELF I HATE MYSELF

I FEEL LIKE SHIT.

But everyone’s tired of hearing that already.