My history teacher called my house and shh.. don't tell anyone, but he sounds so hot on the phone! I used to have a crush on him anyway. Too bad, he can be quite an asshole in class, but very funny. I don't know what to say.
Today my sickness came back again. I have written so much about me feeling weightless and featherlight. Later I'm going to the doctor again and my stomach is so squishy now, I feel like puking again.
I quit my job and I felt so disappointed with myself. I know I should not blame myself on this, but why can't I be as strong as other girls? When I was a toddler, I actually joined the dance club and still at the age of 7, still dancing. Maybe that is why I am this weakling. I am always of no help to my parents.
Yesterday when my dad came home, I lied on my bed and he came to me and asked how I was feeling. I said I was feeling lousy. He asked why and I was like pouring words, tears and snots,
"Dad, I can never bring money home. Just look at me. Just an 8 hour job and I fall so sick. You work for so many hours and you can still function. I am so sorry. I thought I could help myself. Looks like I have to depend on you for money again and never be as independent as I want to be. I am so useless and hopeless, Dad? What kind of job can I do this way? Every job wants me to work fast, but I can't.. I have this slow-twitch muscles going on, but all they care about is speed but I care about the quality too. Not to mention the kitchen is dirty and they blamed me for it. I was all along doing my job as clean as possible. They messed the kitchen and they blamed me."
My dad was like,
"Hush. I know you always try to like help me and all that, but I am your father and I don't want any of my kids to suffer. Work is like that. They blame on the newbies. I may not have the money, but you can still live can't you? Not like I give you no allowance.. you don't need so much money to get by. When you're old enough, you work. You are still 15, of course you are not geared to do this kind of job. Now that you have quit on it, there's nothing more you can do so don't worry. GO and have more rest."
Blah. The more he says he doesn't want us to suffer, the more I cry. The idea of making my dad suffer is worse than the thought of me suffering. Why is he trying to be some hero? He's OLD. I am supposed to be atronger, but I'm freaking weak. I am too soft. I am too slow.
Hmmpfff :(
1:17 p.m. - 2004-10-28
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