April 21, 2019
The bitch children that live with me will be going home in about 30-days. I can’t express how much I hate co-habitation with brats that don’t listen and put their grubby little hands on my food (without washing them), and generally leaving a mess. You can say all you want about needing to have a bigger heart for unfortunate children — until they live with you and don’t follow your house-rules.
So fuck ‘em. They’ll be going back to their ghetto lifestyle and I can finally eat a decent meal and walk around my place naked if I want to.
Plus I get my office back. The moment they leave I’m getting it fumigated.
Aside from that, and I appreciate this space to vent, I’m working still and building on things I wanted to do since there’s a semi-consistent paycheck rolling in.
Looking at AWS certification and A+ certification (Network + down the line as well) to get better jobs/pay.
Animating again. Writing again. Thinking of picking up audio theater production again. Looking at film again.
All this to say I’m feeling myself regardless of past complaints that being myself got me nowhere. I’d rather be going nowhere but happy than not doing the things that I love and suicidal. Therein lies the secret to personal happiness.
This is why these bastard kids need to leave.
They interrupt my personal space happiness. It is a commodity I should never EVER have to put aside for others for their benefit. Shit, I barely have anything else. I deserve to live in a place where it’s not fucked up and dirty by nasty fucking children that won’t listen.
Why don’t I make them listen?
Cause I’ll fucking kill them in the process of doing so. In order to save us all the grief, get the fuck out.
myJournal 