Today started off by him waking me up once again. He's always waking me up. Then because I'm not getting dressed right away he's once again trying to get me to hurry up and get dressed. By this point he hasn't even taken Bandit out to go potty; the last time he was out was maybe 11:30pm last night. We get to the mall so I can try and find some more work pants for me. Of course he starts to bother me by hovering around when I am looking at clothes and making comments like I can'ty afford that or now I can because I got a nice paycheck. Then he wants to go and get some more shoes because his Converse are wearing out. Now he's once again bitching and moaning about how he spent $50 on 2 pairs of shoes and that he's broke until he gets more money from his dad. So of course I say that I will, once again, pay so he can have something to eat. Do I get a thank you? Of course not. We werer eabout to leave but then I asked him what about Bandit? Are you going to get him something? And Rocco was like no, I'm broke. I started thinking hey you got $4 in your fucking wallet AND you are seeingyour dad today for more money. SO I yelled at him in the mall and we left. The argument started to heat up more in the car on the drive home. Eva called me and asked me (kinda) if I could start at 4pm instead of 6pm. I said yes to get away from Rocco. He starts saying that I will be going to jail because I will hit him and so on and that he is tired of taking care of Bandit. I keep on reminding him that if he wants kids, taking care of Bandit is a walk in the park. We get closer to home and he says that helet Kip borrow my mom's lawn mower. I say what and he says he's kidding; he just wanted to see what I would say. Then I am finally tired of hisshit and I say that I don't trust him and stuff and he's saying that I should leave when my mom and I LET HIM INOT OUR place. So I go to work and then Sit its te fan there. We were short hella people, busy as fuck, ran out of products and I am on my period. Now I find out that a close co-worker says that I am flakey. HOW AM I FUCKING FLAKEY?!?!?! I come into work like 96% of the time they call me in early. I ALWAYS stay late. I make myself look like the bad guy. And all of the thanks I fucking get is being called flakey. How dare they. Next time they say jump, I'll say fuck you...
