As the entire North Central College campus knows, I spent every dollar I had saved up over summer (about 2500 dollars) by Halloween or so. The spending spree was actually quite highly documented. I didn't really think much about it until the last few weeks or so when all I did was hear my asshole friends talk about how much fun they are going to have in Panama City for Spring Break. As the weather started to turn and our term and finals week concluded, I woke up one morning and realized "Fuck. I gotta find a way to get down there. I cannot and will not live in that brohating house referred to as "home" for ten days."
That's when I really kicked it into desperation mode. I asked my dad about it time after time again and finally got the response "ask your mother for the money" which every teenager/ college kid knows directly translates to "I don't give a shit as long as your mother doesn't give a shit."
Though I still knew getting the necessary funds would be a long-shot, hearing the aforementioned words gave me a glimmer of hope. I literally texted my mom "dad says to talk to you about getting money for PCB haha" She replied, "haha is right get a job"
Fuck. I still kept at it though. What did I have to lose? After about an hour or so of telling my mom to make it my graduation present (for next year) and shit like that she still wasn't budging. After getting pissed off at her telling me repeatedly to "get a fucking job", I eventually hung up on her.
Doesn't she know I'm a professional blogger? This blog has made me fucking $37.00 so far! The audacity of some mothers...
Anyways, I get home from school about 5:00. I immediately open the fridge, and come to my surprise there's not really anything in it. Usually when I get home my mom stocks up cuz she knows I'll be sitting on my ass, eating, and not working all day. (Again, blogging is my only source of income right now). Strike 2 for Madre. She's walking on thin ice at this point. One more fuck up and I'm gonna snap on her and totally black out in front of her multiple times over break. That'll show her who's boss.
My dad has already managed to piss me off too, which he usually holds off on doing for a day or two when I get home for breaks. So I'm annihilating a Rosati's Pizza he ordered, which was delicious, and I throw the empty box on top of the garbage cans in our garage, instead of folding it up and putting it in the recycling pile. Garbage day is tomorrow, and he sees the cardboard wrongfully placed and says "That's in the wrong spot. You can take the entire trash out now." I concede without even putting up a fight, knowing that I have more 10 days to spend with these people. This is what it must have been like to be in the World Trade Center on 9/11.
Someone please help me. At this point getting down to PCB would take an act of divinity.
Here's the song I've been playing on repeat that has basically brought me to tears because of the four years of fucking Spring Break I've wasted:
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