No one listens to me anymore...not you-the reader- but my parents or sisters.
Situation: The fish in the fish tank are sick. It doesn't take an expert to notice that gasping for air and a fungal growth in the tank. It's clear that the water is bad.
It's cloudy. Food in the gravel rock things at the bottom.
I did some research, and tested the pH and ammonium.
PH is too low, but if we raise that alone without fixing the high ammonium problem the fish die.
I explained this too my dad numerous times.
His suggestion: Add pH increase.
Me: Frustrated. Grrrr.. (Although, you can't growl at your parents...especially my mom- she scares the crap out of me. I love them, but I avoid her often.)
My mom: I don't give a flying F***. (I censored, but you get the picture.)
Um...this is a life or death situation for the fish.
You ask: Why not fix it yourself?
My dad won't let me anywhere near his equipment.
I quote him: "You'll kill the fish."
Irony. He doesn't know the first thing about water quality, which is fine, except when you refuse to learn it when you have a fish tank with animals that depend on you to survive.
He never listens to my suggestions, does regular water maintenance, or anything, until their is a casualty count. He thinks the water becomes bad overnight.
I'm a Chemistry major. It just kills me to watch him kill so many fish, when I know exactly what needs to be done to fix the water and prevent their deaths from coming within weeks after leaving the pet store.
I can't help but to care...it's who I am.
Before you ask, yes, I am vegetarian.
This is like animal abuse...
It just saddens me a lot; that's all.
Well, actually everything is. Don't raise your voice. Quit yelling.
I'll acknowledge my mistake, and if this is how your going to respond to them, I'd rather not be near.
To you readers, this is merely a vent. It's not supposed to make sense unless you are a stalker of sorts who've been with me all mourning.(Pun intended. Use both meanings.)
Now, lets return to the goodies- no fillers.
I was hungry. My head still hurts.
I called him; he made me smile. God, I think I like him.
I hate it when people bring up "innocence" regarding me as a topic of their conversation with me.
Bad sign. Hopefully, my suspicions resolve themselves.
I'll swear I will jump the 3rd floor ledge if I let myself get hurt again.
I called her; we haven't spoken in weeks.
Her phone broke, she says.
So she misses me too.
I still miss her. I have so much to tell her. She must tell me about him, the new school, and whether she's happy.
I'm happy when she is.
My dad is at a wedding. As long as my mom keeps occupied there will be no more yelling.
I HATE the yelling. Screaming. Drama. It makes my chest burn, fist clinch,my eyes to water on there own accord. It makes me so sad.
Everything is wrong about me. With me. Right?
(Oh, the irony.)
I'm the only one who refuses to believe that- that's what it seems like.
I didn't think it possible for things to look up for me. My workload has increased, yet I feel better than ever.
Things are changing, and I am too. Maybe for the better.
Please don't rain on my parade. I haven't felt this thoroughly happy in the longest time.
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