so, here i am. Updating. At fucking 8:30 in the morning.
You see, it's my sister's birthday today. Apparently they beleive that this changes the fact that i need to sleep. I even told them all yesterday that they could open the freaking presents without me; i didn't care. For some reason, listening to me proved an alien concept to anyone in my family, and at 8 o'clock my brother and sister were poking me and laughing. When I didn't respond well to that, they went off to tell on me to my dad. He woke me up and is mad at me because I told him I hated them, which considering that they woke me up in the crappiest way imaginable and how my sister won't shut the hell up about how she's getting her damn phone a year earlier than I did because HER grades are perfect, isn't a totally inacurate statement. Seventeen minutes later, I was back upstairs and, like I knew was going to happen, I can't fall back asleep. I mean, I've seen her open twelve years worth of presents (i was asleep downstairs for this one). Why the hell do i need to see someone tear wrapping paper off boxes? Why does my mom see it as so horribly insensitive that I would rather sleep in, have her open the presents at the exact time SHE wants to, and have me in a good mood when I get up, thus making her birthday that much better instead of watching my sister scream over gifts that in a couple of weeks she'll forget she owns (besides the cell phone, of course. My dad the genius put us on a shared minutes plan and she's already been berating me about not using "her minutes" for weeks) and be in a shitty mood for the rest of the day?
As you can see, I have a reason to hate my family.