just another day
Well after getting a bad night sleep from waking up gagging on an odd odor, due to some kind of broccoli related cooking incident, then being disturbed again two more times for other less-bothersome-but-adding-to-the-total reasons, I end up not eating my dinner until around 8:00PM.
And wouldn’t you know it my grandma was there watching TV waiting to give me the most pleasant greeting. The conversation went something like this:
Her: You finally came down.
Me: Yeah, I didn’t sleep too well last night.
Her: Well who’s fault is that?
Me: There was some sort of smell which was making it hard for me to breath and so I kept waking up.
Her: That was your grandfather cooking broccoli. You can’t hear anything from your room but you smelled that.
There was some discussion about a new wireless phone which was in the kitchen after that but for the most part that was the conversation. My grandma for some reason acted as if my reason for not sleeping well wasn’t good because I can’t hear things from my room, but this is a ridiculous concept.
You see, my room is at the end of the hallway, and the door bell is downstairs, and my sisters room separates mine from it even further. Meanwhile, her door is at the top of the stairs, closest to the door bell. So that’s one thing. Another thing is that I’ve slept through the alarm going off. Sounds don’t usually wake me up unless I go to bed wanting them to, I’m used to going to bed in a noisy environment, with computers and fans and such.
On the other hand, because my room is at the end of the hall way, and I have numerous fans in here, including my air conditioner, which I leave on even in the winter, in it’s fan mode, to move air around, which blows outside still, which I use to suck air through the one window, and have it blown out the other, cooling more effectively than simply opening the window. So if you stick your hand near the space under my door, you feel a ton of air being blown in. And it’s no small amount, it’s a big vacuum in here.
That really doesn’t matter though, because I shouldn’t have to make excuses. I’ll probably get shit anyway. Soon after she comes in to get a cup of water while I was preparing some food and she just says this out of no where in this really degrading way:
“You have it good compared to the kids on this show, their parents are deaf, the one is autistic, and the other is normal.”
I don’t see where she gets off making comments like this to me. I literally just wanted to say, “And? As if I’m supposed to care?” Those parents knew their kids would have a hard life, seeing as they were both deaf. Two people don’t just go deaf spontaneously, and seeing as they couldn’t speak at all, just make weird noises and crap, it most likely means they were deaf from birth. And I know some deaf people can speak despite never having heard a word, albeit not very well, I’m pretty sure my assumption is sound.
It’s one of those home remodel shows but they target “troubled families” or what not. Meanwhile they’re usually just lower-middle class Americans at the worst, usually with a disabled family member or deceased parent. Cry me a damn river.
I don’t really care. I absolutely hate TV shows like this. Where’s the poor starving kids with aids in Africa, getting their house remodeled, that is, if they even have a damn house. Yes there are people worse off than I, what am I supposed to do, feel sorry for them? Waste my time caring? Why should I? If I do that, who’ll waste their time caring for me? Not them, that’s for sure. So I’ll continuing caring about myself, thank you. Not as if I want those people to care about me anyway.
My grandma needs to get the fuck off her high horse and step into reality. You could say oh, you need to step into reality too, but there’s a difference. I wouldn’t ever impose my shit onto other people in such a degrading way like she does. And that’s where I get off.