1+1=fuck off, mom

Last night, I told my mom the reason I hadn’t been responding to any of her texts nor answering her calls since friday morning was because I had broken my phone again.

When she pointed out that it only takes them 25 minutes to fix a phone, I found myself awkwardly having to explain that my phone was now being held hostage by the phone clinic until I could pay them the $109 they were charging me to fix it.

So, being that I’ve broken my phone, like, what… 17 times since Valentine’s Day – she was pretty furious.

Actually, I’d describe her more as livid. Just to be more accurate and whatnot…

She went on this huge freaking rant about how I needed to get my shit together and I can’t just party for the rest of my life and not do any work.

After everything we have been through…if you continue down this path you will end up with nothing: no degree, no job, no money, and no self respect.

Aside from now knowing how to tell her during this now-you-listen-here-child speech, that she had misspelled self-respect and her grammar was definitely NOT on point

I also wasn’t sure how to tell her what was on the tip of my tongue, or whether I even should.

What’s the point, if I have already reached a point where I don’t have any more self-respect?

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In case you were wondering, I responded to the entire rant with “okay.”

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