The lock on the outside door has not been working in over a month. My key used to work but I would have to jiggle it a certain way until it eventually stopped working altogether. I have had to walk out to let delivery guys in when ordering. If I stepped out, I have had to wait for someone to come out of their house in order to get back in to the building. I have placed the rug in a way that it will keep the door lodged open. Me and another tenant got locked out after picking our children up from school one day, so I came inside and got some tape to hold the lock back from latching. Then I came out to other people putting their variations of duck tape, and mailing labels to try to keep it from closing. Then one fine day-- after weeks of torment-- the lock was just completely gone. It was nice to not worry about any of those pesky things: being locked out, lodging doors open, keys not working, having to walk out to open doors for delivery guys. The damn lock was back on the door Monday morning when I went to bring Matt to school. I was locked out because my mother had already left for work and my key would not even go in to the god forsaken lock. It happened again yesterday and I had to have the super's helper let me in. Let's add some more aggravation, shall we... My mom argued with me yesterday morning for waking up late. You know my kid has school... You haven't heard anyone come out of the room. You can't do me a solid?? But last week, you can open my door and point out a fax confirmation from some shit I had you fax 2 days prior.. Oh and you can waltz into my room to ask me for a panty liner.. while I'm on staycation. There was the biggest fight in my house yesterday evening because she spoils my son and then gets mad at the taste. Matt is a picky eater. He usually does not try new foods. It has to be his or a friend's idea. I mustered up what little energy I had and cleaned up the damn kitchen (dishes that did not belong to me directly, disinfected countertop and table), and cooked for her and I. Mathew had taken an afternoon nap, like he has since returning to school on Monday. Please keep in mind, this kid hasn't taken naps since he was like 3-- and even then he was fighting them like bloody hell. Anywho.. Then the little shit is cranky as hell when he wakes and doesn't go back to sleep until 2am. Figuratively speaking-- I'm gonna kill him. I tried to wake him to ask him what he wanted to eat because heaven forbid he ever eats what everyone else is consuming when they are consuming it. He didn't budge. When he woke cranky as ever demanding I make Mac and cheese, I refused. There's a lot of quick shit in the freezer and pantry. Not only am I not in the mood to wash another pot, but I just don't have the energy. He starts bitching and moaning.. She does, too. "Wtf your kid is hungry!" [insert internal thoughts here: If you don't mind your phucking business] My stomach (since Sunday) and vag (since Monday) have been phucked up-- thank you, Amoxicillin and Sinusitis-- She heated him up something on both those days. So now I don't feed my son. 85 pounds, 4 foot 4 inches -- all signs point to BULLSHIT-- Eats a bowl of cereal after school, then a snack knocks out and wakes up like a beast.. But somehow he doesn't eat. So she's yelling this dumb shit out loud and I want to kill her. You're throwing around false accusations in a building full of white people.. as she bangs around a pan, and pantry doors in the kitchen to make him Mac and cheese. I don't like to cook when I'm not in the mood because I kid you not, it makes the food taste funny. So I wind up wasting my energy, food AND time. When I do cook with love, it tastes magnificent. Fast forward.. After eating some of her Mac, he says "Mommy makes it with love.." Have I mentioned that my kid is an asshole? So now she takes offense to that and says some sideways shit, while I'm on the couch ready to rip my vagina out, doing my best to diffuse the situation all whilst avoiding another fight. The pharmacy delivered my antibiotic (to treat the yeast infection the amoxicillin caused) and I took it immediately, no investigation. They could've given me crack and told me this will treat your vag and I just popped that shit with no second thought-- I'm totally kidding. Within 2 hours, I started to feel some relief.. When I said that out loud, I got accused of it all "being in my head." At which point, I got up and walked away. THAT was enough for one night. I can't be around her too much, too often for too long. It's awful. This morning, I threw Matt out of bed as soon as the alarm went off. She was still in the bathroom, so he tried to come back to bed. I told him, "No, wait in the living room until she is done." This dumb ass comes out the bathroom like, "she threw you out of the nest.." I ignored it because only miserable people wake up, utilizing and throwing around words they know will start a fight. I got up gave Matt some clothes. I proceeded to go into the bathroom, came out, threw on sweats and thong slippers to bring Matt to school. On my way back, the outside door was locked. My key was not going through.. I rang the bell-- like a normal person. She comes out to open the door because the bell system is still not working, yelling at me in the hallway. It's too early for the bullshit, I'm yelling back. As we know in buildings, that creates an echo. She's asking me where my keys are.. What if she wasn't home.. Telling me her keys work.. I should've rang someone else's bell. [internal thought: WHAT?!] I DO have my keys. They aren't working. I would've been locked out like I was yesterday.. I don't live with anyone else. I knew you were home.. Had that been her precious son that does no wrong, she would've came out titty in hand for him to suck after she sheltered him to safety from the "cold." I'm tired of being treated like a red headed stepchild. I do the right thing, yet I'm ALWAYS wrong. I actually prayed today. I prayed that she would find a boyfriend to nag because I'm over it.
