I had a really good day today, and then of course it turned crappy at the end. I didn't do what my husband told me to do (work on things for the business he owns), so I had to endure a lot of griping. I swear, if there is one word I'm so fucking fed up with, it's "bitch." I hate even typing that. It breaks my heart and makes me feel so ashamed. Which is stupid because it isn't my fault, but I feel bad about putting up with it.
This is not something I want to have to deal with right now. If I end up moving in with my sister or grandmother before chemo is even over, I won't be surprised in the least. Sad, probably, but not surprised.
How the fuck did things end up the way they are?
12:17 a.m. - 2014-06-04