Ugh, I think I might slip some rat poison in my grandfather's tea. If I'm sitting down for a moment to catch my breath after chasing River

around, then he bitches about how if he were like me, then the house would be a disgusting pig sty and why don't I do laundry right this

second? If I'm playing with River- why aren't I teaching her things? If I'm trying to teach her something- why am I doing that? She doesn't

understand what I

'm saying anyway.

(effing enter button)

What's worse, if I actually dare to clean or do laundry or wash dishes, I'm ALWAYS doing it wrong. I swear to fucking gawd that sonuva bitch

gets off on criticism. There is no pleasing him even if one is doing exactly what he wants. I hope he dies soon. He's old enough, shouldn't

he, like, be clutching his left arm while his eyes bug out and he gasps for breath???

Harsh, I know, but I've learned to hate living with him.

I'm sorry, that doesn't read right. I've learned how to hate. Because of living with him.

anyone else reading this and going "Emo... yes, more emo... whine bitch moan.... I wonder if this makes her feel better?) lol

Well, it does. So there.

sorry to hear you are not getting along with him