June 25th

Monday

I am not happy. You'd think I would be, being sane and healthy, bridging the gap between S and I. But I'm not. I need my space. I need privacy. I need a bedroom that is mine 24 hours a day, a locked door. I have to fight for alone time, wrestling my sister and now my dad, who's addicted to video poker. He's using it as his "second job", claiming he can make a lot of money. I don't doubt that, but now I have him to deal with, so parents are actually thinking of buying another computer.

I'm toying with the idea of working retail until a better job comes through, but the thought of customer service makes me sick. Like, I literally get sick. I don't think I can put up with bitchy, irate people again. I think that may even be worse than the boredom I feel everyday from not working.