Spent all weekend phoning up pet cemetary's due to the fact that one of my mothers ferrets died. Why did she have to call me for help? We hardly ever talk then one of the damned things kicks the bucket and I have to deal with it. As usual, Ryan won't help me out. He's cut our mother out of his life completely, won't even say her name at times, just calls her it, her, she or loony. As the daughter though, I feel guilty, like i got to do something although we completely despise one another. I refuse to talk about my life with her at all. She doesn't know anything about me except for where I work and that was complete accident-she just turned up there one day.
What do you wear to the funeral of an animal that you never met? What do you wear to the funeral of an animal, a ferret to be precise? The woman is clearly deranged. It's going to only be me and her at the funeral, oh, and her friend Alice. She's even more screwed up than my mother. You'd have to be to hang out with her. All they do is drink. It's a sad life. Sometimes I imagine Ryan and I will end up that way, and I think maybe I should just die now because death has got to be better than my mother's life.
Work is still going slow, i'm thinking they might close the place down. Then maybe I'll have the guts to do something that I really want, like be a bartender or something. Maybe I just need a little push in the right direction, I don't know.