Mother F*cker

YIPES. My mom’s promised someone my services again, in exchange my *mother* will be paid and I won’t, and I’m expected to do custom themes from the graphics out to coding to their exact specifications plus implement the designs on no less than 13 websites. 13! Not only do I have to do these designs, code and implement them but I also have to maintain them for at least a year each!

Dude, I can’t do it. I don’t have time for it and she knows it. She doesn’t care, that’s the sick part. She treats my sister and I like we’re not people, just machines she uses to make her life easier. She needs something written? Laota‘ll do it. She needs something designed? Call Faith. She does it so much that it amazes me that she’s got the sheer gall to pretend she’s shocked whenever it’s brought up.

Ugh. I’ve got a horrible year coming to me.

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