My mother and I don't get along

I hate living here. I really hate it. My mom's drinking again, but now only at nights before bed. she's mostly sober during the day. She's only been drunk for about an hour a night, the past three or four days. Then she goes to sleep. I am angry.

But it turns out, I don't like her much, even sober. I'm really starting to learn the difference between loving someone and liking them. I'd do anything for my mother. But I don't like her at all. Even sober she's SO negative. Nothing is ever good, happy, or even mildly pleasant. She can and does complain about everything. A part of me, the part I like to ignore because I'm not a shrink, wonders if this negativity is why she drinks. If it drives me this crazy just being around her, I can't imagine how crazy I would go if I were in her head. You probably wouldn't know it from reading this blog, but I'm usually a very positive person, and I surround myself with people who are even more positive than I am. I don't like negativity. I want to move out.

She brings out the worst in me. I keep catching myself doing and thinking stupid, childish things. And not he good fun kind of childish. More like, the back-talking but not quite logical type of childish. The type of childish that makes kids throw a temper tantrum when things aren't fair. That's not me..... or at least, I don't want it to be. But I keep doing it. And so does she. We're playing off each others bad behavior. I don't know how to stop it, except to bite my tongue. But I hate that too. It's not comfortable.

BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUT (and yes, I did just say that out loud and draw the word out) There are other things going on right now which are a lot better. Which I'm trying to focus on. I just had to get that other bit off my chest. I've been writing posts, but not posting, for more than a week now.

I regressed, again. WORK! My job. It doesn't pay much, but it turns out, I actually like it a lot. I work in the bakery of a grocery store. I love bread, cookies, and pastries (all things we bake ourselves) and even though there's no discount, I do get to know in advance what will be on the shelves and I get to know exactly how fresh it is. My co-workers, though all significantly more experienced than I am (all of them have been working at least 5 years in various grocery store bakeries. Some of them have transferred between stores every now and then.) but all of them are really nice to me. It's fine, it's good. I cut myself on a bread knife the other day, but it's healing nicely. (cuts are no big deal. I'm just glad its healing finally. it's right on the joint so I expected it to take a lot longer)

And Jeffreys applied for a few good jobs. Hopefully he'll get one soon and then I can start looking for apartments and find us a nice pretty one. It'll be sad though, to leave my job. I'm looking into what I'd need to do to transfer to another store. At least that would give me some sort of job security.