I Quit Life.

You ever have one of those days where it's just a cosmic conspiracy against you? Like every time you dig yourself out of your own misery, you fall back in and get sucked by such force that you can't even begin to claw your way out again? No? Just me? Well, I'm having one of those days, and it's only been 2 hours and 30 minutes.

I was hungry, so I decided to make Spaghetti, because I haven't eaten in a day (my own fault, laziness, I suppose). The burner didn't work.  I stood with my hand touching it for five minutes and it wouldn't light.  So finally I moved over to the other burner that did work. I asked Aaron to look at the one that wouldn't light, and wouldn't you know it? It worked FINE for him!

I went to stir the sauce and wound up burning my hand, because we have no effing lids anywhere.  Then when I went to strain everything, the dumb strainer tipped and cascaded noodles over the side.

There were no clean dishes, so I had to wash some.  I'm not even hungry.

Then, of all things, I step on a freaking NAIL! A NAIL! And cut up my ankle.  So, I'm starting to think that today's one of those miserable days where I stay in bed all day.

Oh, and I'm not writing this from my laptop like I usually would, I'm writing from the old laptop, because my new one crashed on me.

Read Ahead for Normal Ranting
So, I went to Jessie's for two weeks and decided that while I was gone, I wasn't touching any of the dishes in the sink because they weren't mine. Besides, I had just done them last week and I'm tired of doing them.  Well, wouldn't you know it, I ask Thomas to do them and I get the "OH! You were GONE all week? Where'd they come from then?!" Argument.  I give up. I quit. I'm not starting over, I'm not giving up a life, I'm just quitting. It's going to be like Fiesta, I'm putting everything on hiatus.

I'm done.

I will be DAMNED if I do the dishes again!!!!!

And I swear, if I have to keep doing them when no one else will (yes, literally, NO ONE ELSE), then I'm demanding fifty dollars a week. Otherwise, they can wash their own dishes. I'm not doing it anymore. I told everyone I wasn't touching them, and I won't.

And if I get the "I haven't been here", "I'm moving out", or "Why should I do them, I was working all week!" I swear to God, I'm killing myself. I mean that. I'm done with this. I'm tired of being everyone's damn slave.