Why Don't I Call Home?

I’m really starting to remember why I hated being at home so much, my step mom waits until the exact moment I get on the internet and then she needs to get on and do her work. To avoid this I try to get on late at night, for example, I tried to get on after midnight and yet it should come as no surprise that about fifteen minutes after I get on the line gets interrupted and she comes to the bottom of the stairs asking if she can get on the internet.

Why does she need it suddenly whenever I am on. I was gone all day, I got back at 9:30 and I watched a movie until 12:30, so she had all of that time to use the internet for work, but she has to be up tomorrow for work and she’s still on the thing now! It’s 2 in the morning. I on the other hand have nowhere to be.

I don’t see how someone can be so rude and just wait until I am trying to do something before she has to suddenly do it. And what’s worse is we have AOL, so even though we have two separate lines I can’t get on the other one because AOL is the stupidest of the ISPs and only allows one user online at a time.

Truly I don’t know how I put up with her, she finds some way to get in the way of any and everything I try to do. She complains about anything she can’t get in the way of and she makes up stupid excuses for why she made up some dumb nonsensical rule.

When I first got home Christmas eve she asked me how long I had been in town, I told her that I had been at my brother’s house for like five or six days, she blew up and told me that the reason I didn’t have a car up in San Antonio was because I didn’t follow directions.

What fucking directions is she talking about? She didn’t arrange for me to get home, I did that on my own, and she’s lucky I tried because I could have stayed put and not come back here. She acts like she told me to come home at some specific time when all she really did was say that I had to call before I came home, and that was in August when I left that she said that.

I did call before I came home, two weeks before and I never said I’d be there the next day. As a matter of a fact, when I asked them to pick me up on the 14th of December, they told me that it was the middle of the week and that they had to work and all of this other crap.

So when that happened I basically just forgot about getting their help and found a way to where I needed to be, and I did it on my own. No one told me where to go, and no one tried to help me except for Jeff. I mean how do they expect me to get by, they tell me they’ll pay for my college, when I offer to get a job to earn extra money they threaten to stop paying, they won’t give me a car, if I get a job to get a car I can’t go to college. What kind of shitty system are you people trying to run on me here?

I mean I’m cool for money when I’m here in town, but when I get back to San Antonio it’ll be the same old no money thing. And I can’t count on the worthless asses I live with to help out in any kind of way, I mean when I went back there they hadn’t even bothered to flush before leaving the place dormant for a month.

My mother is actually talking about coming to see me at the beginning of next week, I don’t want her to. Because I don’t want to be bothered with my family anymore after I get the hell out of the greater Houston area. I’ve seen more of them than I’ve wanted to and I’m tired of it.

Also there are some people I have yet to see and seem to be unable to get hold of, like my brother, John who is never at home, Megan Thorton, who, despite my best efforts, seems to be busy whenever I try to call her. Julie who was out of town with her dad and who I was having a conversation with before someone had to get online to do work that should have been down twelve freaking hours ago.

When I got back here I tried to be nice to all of them, I came in and said hi, even though they ignored me and the first things my mom was telling me was how I hadn’t followed directions. I sat there in the car on Christmas day while she complained about how I switched lanes too much and drove too fast, despite the fact only one of us has totaled two cars in the last ten years and managed to wreck another without even being in it.

Maybe there are just some people you’re not meant to be nice to, people who just don’t want anyone to be nice to them. I’m even tired of trying, I should only be here one more full day, in about forty hours or so I should be in a car, well on the way to San Antonio where I can be happy and feel at home again.

A month ago or so I wrote an entry about how I feel more at home with my friends than I do in my own room—well let me tell you this, I feel less at home in this house than anywhere else. I’ve felt less at home here for a full eleven years and I don’t want to spend one more day in here.