Some of the best music I’ve ever gotten my writing ideas from is country. There’s so much story to a country song, it’s all about love, happiness and things that piss you off. Then again that’s music in general, I guess. Point is this week my writing ideas are coming from Blake Shelton. I’m currently working on Getting Rid of Steven Rodgers, however I did spend a good three hours on my book this week and I am now beginning what I think will be the last chapter.
In personal news my mother got herself a Teacup Chihuahua, or at least what she thinks is a teacup. His name is bear and he’s adorable, which makes me incredibly sad. My parents cannot take care of animals, they never could. Growing up my sister and I picked up after them, we groomed them, we played with them and we fed them. Now that I’m not at home anymore, I’ve noticed a big difference about the house I grew up in. Simply put, it’s turned to shit.
The changes began when I went away to college, I would get calls all the time when someone would be complaining about the dishes in the sink, about the piles of laundry, and about the mess in the bathroom. It dawned on me halfway through the semester. Those were my chores! Since I left no one had been doing them. When I brought this to their attention it was like a brick wall went up. Apparently I was just full of it? I thought I was too good for the house I grew up in? I up and left them? They called me a bitch, slut, whore, you name it, I mean everything two prepubescent 12 year old girls would call each other they said it.
Since then the relationships between my parents and I have and never been the same. To this day mom and dad still fight about things that aren’t getting done. It was always clear to me that they didn’t like each other, even more so now that they only stood together all this time just because of my sister and me. Now they just coexist. The house is cluttered; the dust bunnies pass by like tumbleweeds. The last domino to fall was when my little sister went to college. Unlike me she went to college four hours away. She got the hell out of dodge while it the ship was sinking.
People rarely visit my parents, this isn’t because of the house or because of the dust bunnies but because they have pushed the family away. They pick fights, it’s like they don’t know how to talk to people, and heaven forbid my mother go two days without lying about something. She’s a liar by habit, by nature, it’s in her blood. Don’t even get me started about my father… urg. I’ve already said to much as it is.
Let’s get back on track, I’m not complaining about this for no reason, mom and dad had a dog while my sister was away and I was living in my own place. It was a shih tzu named Woofie. It died. In the cage, no one knows why. Could have been that they never took it to the vet. Could be that they forgot to feed it. Could be that they never groomed it properly or gave it baths regularly. Could be that they fed it moldy food from the fridge while they were cleaning it out. (My parents do not believe in expiration dates.)
My point is my parents cannot properly take care of that dog or guarantee that the pit bull they already have and neglect won’t kill it. That pit bull as much as I love it and lord knows my sister adores her dog, get the shit end of the stick. It either outside or in its cage and since my sister left for college the dog has lost 20 pounds. When she came back from college the dog was caked in dust because the last time it had a bath was before she left for the semester. Things like this piss me off. They should not have gotten another dog. Period.
Now that I said my piece, I can take a breath and get back to my stories, while listening to some good old Blake Shelton. Furthermore I just want to say that you have no idea how hard it is to have cravings as a broke woman going through PMS. I can’t afford to buy food this month and we’re living on the $30 dollars’ worth of meat I brought at the beginning of the month. Talk about an effective diet, right? Next month should be better. I don’t know why, not really sure it will be, but it makes me feel better to say it.
This has been a Behind the Pages- shit got real- vent. Reputations might have been harmed, readers may have been lost.
I’m sorry if anything I said offended you. Just know, from the bottom of my heart I don’t really give a shit.