evilynn's Journal

Some days I want to tell you how I feel.  But you never listen.  When you catch me crying and I won't tell  you why, you get pissed and storm off.  Even if I did tell you what was bothering me you wouldn't understand.  Or you would half listen like you usually do.  I know you think crying is a waste of time, so do I.  But some days I just can't help it.

I used to love my job.  It was hard work, but I loved it.  Good people, good location.  I was so happy.  Now I hate it.  You don't know  what it's like to have to go in there and take crap off of those morons.  For years I had to take shit from your sisters.  You never knew.  How could I tell you what was really happening?  Making up songs about me, spreading rumors, lying to the boss to get my job.  It was so humiliating to walk in to work everyday and know that people are not only talking about me but laughing at me.  I put up with all of that nonsense because I love you.  I never wanted you to be disappointed in me or think less of me.  I was so happy when they got let go.  But the damage was already done.  I wish that I would have quit a long time ago.  Now, it's too late.  I'm kind of stuck where I'm at.

I'm sick and tired of working my ass off and I'm still broke.  And I can't believe it doesn't bother you.

I hate the way I look.  You tell me I look fine, but I see the way your friends look at me.  And I've caught you looking before.  Yes, vanity is a sin.  But being ugly sucks.

I hate coming home to a messy house.  That doesn't seem to bother you either.  Would it kill you to pick up your dirty clothes?  I work more hours than you do.  Why can't you cook dinner and clean up once in a while?  I don't want to nag, but why do I have to do everything?

This is not supposed to be my life.  I don't cheat.  I don't drink, smoke or use drugs.  WTF?

I wish I could tell you this, but it will only start a fight.  I'm too old and too tired for this shit.