Well this weekend was pretty much a bust. During the summer months, I have Friday's off. This past Friday was spent sleeping. I didn't get up until the early afternoon. I had stayed up the night before. The phone woke me up. It was my sister asking me for a computer printout. I was disgusted. This is the sister that I grew up with. I love my sister, but sometimes I want to punch her lights out. She has three kids and is totally dependent on other people. She relies on everyone else for everything and it irks me that at 30 + she's not more responsible. I keep telling her, no one owes her anything and that she needs to step up to the plate and take care of herself and her children. That goes in one ear and out the other.
Yesterday for instance, I spent all day trying to get her daughter's hair twisted. Mind you I picked them up, took them to the salon, paid for it out of my pocket and even bought them breakfast. The whole time she is complaining. Telling me how it is taking too long and how she wants to leave and how all of this is a waste of time. Excuse me, but your daugther's head looks like chickens have been playing in it and what else is there for you to do? NOTHING! You are not doing anything at all but sitting on your FAT ASS. You are not using your car, your gas or your money! GRRRrrr. This sister irks the hell out of me. But for some reason, I feel a sense of responsibility to make sure that her kids don't suffer. They are family and it is not their fault that their mother is irresponsible.
Ok, so last year, I decided that I was going to write a book. I started writing it about 6 months ago. It will be closely based on my own personal experiences. I know that everyone has a story to tell. Some people don't want to tell their story; others want to scream it from the mountain top. I am somewhere in the middle. I feel that it necessary to tell mines.