Girl Talk and Some Venting

Okay, first off, if talk of a girl's period bothers you, just go ahead and skip this paragraph...I am so freaking tired of my period. Three years ago, I went on the 4-periods-a-year birth control because I was having spine surgery in September, and my doctor didn't want me to have to worry about my period while I was recovering from it. For a while, it was great. But lately, it hasn't been doing crap. Like this quarter, for example. I started bleeding 3 weeks ago, basically the day I left Campbell. Guess what? I'm still bleeding. And next week is the week I'm actually supposed to have my period. Not to mention I basically have to make a diaper out of pads to keep from ruining all my underwear. This. freaking. sucks.

Second of all, today I've really been fighting the urge to punch Chelsea in the face. She has got to be the most selfish person on the planet. Mom comes home from the hospital today, and basically the first thing Chelsea asks is "So can I go out tonight? I'll take Blake with me." SERIOUSLY?! Anybody with half a brain could figure out that Mom is in massive pain and can barely move without crying, and I can't exactly take care of her by myself, and yet it's all about Chelsea. And when Mom said no, she turned into evil bitch Chelsea, which has made this whole evening suck majorly.

Oh, and you wanna hear something freaking fantastic? Apparently, she's getting married in July. To the guy she told me two weeks ago she doesn't even have feelings for. And he wants another baby. He's deploying in November and apparently wants to start trying in August so that she can be pregnant while he's gone, and then he'll be back for the birth. Heaven help us.

Actually, heaven help him. Because he has no freaking clue what he's getting himself into. He doesn't see the Chelsea who's perfectly content living in utter filth. The Chelsea who can't even put dirty diapers and wipes into the Diaper Genie that's right next to the changing table. The Chelsea who puts holes in walls and throws things when she gets mad. The Chelsea who can't do anything for anyone else unless she gets something out of it. Yeah, if by some microscopic chance they do actually get married, I predict this guy will be out of sight faster than you can say hasta la vista.

Is this harsh of me? Yes. But it's realistic.

Pray for my mom. She's in massive pain, and the hospital doctors sent her home without pain meds. And she can't take any of mine because I took the last of her Phenergan, and she's afraid to take narcotics without Phenergan because she'll get sick to her stomach, and if she throws up she could bust the incision where they did the catheterization yesterday and bleed out. (That was a really long sentence.) And she has to deal with my psycho sister.

There's just a lot going on here right now.