omigod i am trapped

I sleep on the couch in my family's living room a lot. I'm not sure why, maybe it's because I know I'm not supposed to sleep on it, but I always sleep better on it than I do in my bed. Craziness. Anyway, I woke up a little bit this morning to hear something about my dad hitting a deer.

I woke up again a few hours later because my dad was home and telling me that my tires were completely bald. I woke up just enough to be interrogated about whether I was going to class that day (I was and I did...bitches...although I have a terrible habit of skipping so it was really a fair question) and then passed out again. 

FINALLY I woke up for reals, to the pleasant news that: my dad was going sixty on the highway this morning and hit a deer, basically totaling his truck. Well, the grill was crunched, the headlights are both dead to rights, and even though with a lot of work they managed to get the grill pulled out enough from the engine that the car ran, it was still fucking up the fan apparently, or some shit like that. But knowing my dad a little thing like coming a hair's breadth from totaling the car won't stop him from jerry-rigging it back together and using it for ANOTHER thirty years or however the hell old it is (that thing is old as the goddamn hils). BUT the other, even better news was that my tires, my beautiful studded tires that were supposed to last through four winters at LEAST, are completely bald. I spent so much time this winter burning rubber on the icy path up to our house and trying to get myself out of other icy situations that I apparently killed my tires. TIRES ARE LIKE FUCKING SIXTY DOLLARS EACH, and I'm already broke. Fuck my life.

This comes on the heels of an ultimatum my mother made last week. It stems from the fact that I have a midnight curfew which is bullshit because I'm 20 and in college, but my parents do not understand this, and because they own me I have to listen. Besides flouting the curfew I also have a bad habit of falling asleep in my boyfriend's bed and...just...not...coming...home. Obviously I have to make up some other excuse for where I was or else my parents would fly into a fundamentalist rage and kill Taylor, but the point remains that my mom finally threatened that if I don't come home again they won't let me drive the car. BULL. SHIT. I can't do anything about it. Right before I lost my job we agreed on what price they wanted for the car and that I could buy it from them, but then I lost my job, and I haven't been able to find a new one since. Hence, they own me. 

Last of all, my friends are going on a road trip over spring break that I was invited on. To go I'd have to borrow like fifty bucks from my parents, which is apparently a BIG FUCKING DEAL because my mom was not pleased when I brought up the subject. I'm peeved because I've been shooting job applications out into the stratosphere like nobody's business, I'm pretty sure I'm getting all A's for this quarter which ends this week, and I DESERVE A REWARD LIKE A ROADTRIP, GODDAMMIT. 

Okay, yes, I know, I don't deserve anything, but I fucking need out of the house and away from my parents before I kill someone, especially now that my car's out of commission for God knows how long. But apparently my mom thinks spring break would be a great time to - you guessed it! - HUNT FOR EVEN MORE JOBS.

Fuck that noise. I need a break.