Later, I asked her if she'd loan me five bux so that I could get a paid account on Livejournal: she said she would, but never told me when she'll actually do it. Apparently, she's 'sick of me' and she's going to make me 'suffer for' what I want. *Shrug* if my own mother can't hate me, who can, right?
I woke up at 11:30, today..'no,' I thought 'mom wouldn't let me oversleep so late - my clock must be wrong'. Well, it wasn't. I wandered downstairs and asked her why she didn't wake me up.
'I'm not your fucking alarm clock, Vanessa. You're a big girl. Get up on your own'. Wow, I had no idea that it was so hard to go upstairs and tell me to wake up. Forgive me, lord, for I have sinned. My mother hates me.
She told me that she's sick of me because I'm moody. When I told her that being moody was (what the dr. told me) part of being depressed and that I needed treatment for it, she told me to 'get the goddamned pills' or 'buck up and get over it'. I guess it's hard for a moron to understand that you can't just get over being depressed. I think my mom needs to 'get over' being a bitch.
In completely other news: My fucking nightshirt has a typo on it. A fucking typo! I wonder if this is something that I should report to Engrish.com? Its' got a large, orange, smiling cat with his arms and legs spread open on the front of it as if he's pouncing to hug you...underneath, it should say 'Gimme a hug!'....except for the fact that it says 'Qimme a hug'...^^; *smirk*
Also, I'm pissed off in a whole new way, today. I was drawing a picture to make into a Livejournal back round for drgnmstralexs' jounal, and trying to do it just perfect...but fuck, I suck. I ruined the whole goddamned picture. I'm goin to just make him a rad one with an existing pic and see if he'll let me get away with that...