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Argh. Argh and Ugh.



That's how today has felt.



I want to believe that it's NOT all my fault, but that seems to be really hard to do, since those words are thrust in my face so often. After a lifetime of that, how can you try to say with any certainty that it's not your fault?



I didn't know the answer of how you wanted to pay for your taxes, I had to wake you up to get that answer. You needed them done tonight, the procrastinator that you are, but still took a sleeping pill, then bitched at me and almost threw the remote at me before getting up to come down to the computer to figure it out.



That's not my fault, but you want to believe it is. And yeah, yelling at me? That's not gonna keep you awake.



It's not my fault you waited until the last minute.



I didn't do anything wrong, but it's still my fault.





Oh, and I bet you that you don't come to my Court of Honor. You never come to anything I deem important. And Deanna said to invite you. Yeah, I'd rather not even waste my breath on that hopeless question.



Fuck it. Just fuck it all.