My realm of sadness is that my mother is only now realizing that I will never have "pretty hair" in our culture, because "growing it just a bit longer" is only going to make the ensuing cone that much wider; I inherited curly/wavy/wiry hair from both sides of my family. For me, shoulder-length also means shoulder-width. Now she's backed off from "when it grows a little bit longer... !" and moved on to "okay, cut it all off again, seriously."
I also find it awkward that I apparently look very Jewish, which leads to that awkward position where Jewish guys are interested until they find out that you're not Jewish, and then non-Jewish guys stay away because they think you're going to reject them for not being Jewish.
(My mom's told me to expect Squidhead to either drop me or order me to convert in the next bit; I've just discovered that he apparently goes to synagogue every weekend, and has been asking me about my religious affiliations. This is largely due to my father's experience with Jewish women, as he looks very Jewish but there seemed to be a lot of speed-dropping)
*shrug*
Oh, well. Some day, there will be somebody.
In unrelated complaints, I have a back ache from my shoulderblades to just above my hips. Hurray for too much heavy lifting.
And I'm also apparently expected to spend my winter break (or, at least, most of the time I set aside for myself to rest during winter break, rather than the time set aside to study) making life easier for my father, which is precisely what I need after a semester of painful burnout.
EDIT: Oh, and now my mom had something heavy fall on top of her head in the garage. Because she chose to ignore my attempts to take care of the situation and paid attention to my father instead, she now gets unilateral shouting rights in my direction and to say whatever she wants about me. I'm not supposed to argue back, because she ignored me, and I didn't knock over my father to get to her and help her, and she didn't address me, and that means I did nothing at all.
Of course, my father also came by when I was continuing to put together the bed in my room, and let me know that it I was continuing to put together furniture with my back hurt to the point of shaking while trying to hold myself upright and having trouble standing (and own head wound, from something (lighter, and from a shorter distance) falling on me) for my own benefit, and that it didn't matter if I was doing it because I'd been ordered to to help my father, and it didn't matter what I said because I wasn't hurt.
An absence of complaining, an absence of crying, a spate of crying hidden and pain only related through the simple words of "I'm very tired, and my back hurts" doesn't mean it doesn't exist. It means the emotions were hidden for the benefit of others, because everyone else is at the breaking point and I've been ordered that I'm the one who is going to break--because I am young, and because I am more expendable, and because less is at stake when it comes to my sanity.
And people wonder why I never seem to manage to be unilaterally happy. I'm so easy to force into a position of powerless invisibility and ignore, because no matter what I do, I can be pushed a little bit more.
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Topic: Things that made you sad today thread. (Read 9447187 times)