So the crush is gone, thankfully. I was beginning to worry that I was going back to being my old obsessive-self. Not so... not so.

The one thing that's bothering me today is living with my parents... how long did that take? Not even a month? I love them. I appreciate what they're doing for me. But they drive me MAD! I am not a person who changes the sheets on my bed every 7 days. I like to think I'm cleaner than that, and I do it every 2 weeks or so... I don't havea schedule for these things. My mom does.

The inane insipid ever-present elevator music and KennyG soprano sax is making me crazy.

The "Dad cooks breakfast on Saturdays and Sundays and you must eat when it's ready. It would be an insult to eat before then even though you're starving." attitude.

The moving of my sweater to the bannister that is on the way up to the room where I'm sleeping when it's been sitting on a chair for 10 minutes and I go look for it because I'm cold another 10 minutes later and it's not there.

My dad thinking he knows how to look after my dog better than I do... I can just see what it's going to be like if I ever have human children! Yeeg.

I'm bitter because I can't show them my tattoo. I'm just so put off by their attitudes any time they see a woman with a tattoo on TV "Oh, she's hard." To my mom a "hard woman" is someone who has mental problems, is a slut and a bitch and will never amount to anything. Problem is... I *have* amounted to something. I *like* who I am and I *do NOT* need her judging me unfairly for something that I have chosen to give myself and consider to be a wonderful gift. Yeah, I know life's unfair and all that. I just wish my Mom could be a bit more open minded about things and a bit more closed mouthed about the things she isn't open minded about! Very vocal, my mother.

In addition, I'm fighting some kind of illness that isn't all that horrendous, but my mom is telling me every few hours what I should be doing to take care of it, and feeling my forehead with her perfume-laden wrist. Meh. I don't generally like perfume. I don't like my mom's perfume. Sorry mom. It's stinky. Why the heck do you put perfume on when you're just toddling around the house, anyway?!

It's really not all that bad... at least that's what I keep telling myself... it's just all the little things that add up and make me bonkers. I know they love me and mean well... but it's still not easy.

Yeah.. I know... petty petty petty. I'm just down about not having my own space. Soon. Another month. *shudder*