Gonna do some bitching

Nobody reads this thing, so I can feel free to indulge. Except, of course, a future employer. Who will read this, and recognize that they might be in the process of hiring a human being, with thoughts and feelings unique to themself, possibly in conflict with the employer's own thoughts and feelings, meaning I will never get a job. Because that's how this shit works. And the things that are online about me pretty much assures my total lack of employment for the rest of my life. What a wonderful modern world we have.

I can't stress enough to people that if you don't have babies and you're thinking of having babies that the best decision you can make in this situation is to just not have babies. I'm at a wonderful stage with my twins now, where every comment made to them that isn't praise, say something along the lines of "let go of the cat's head," results in a screaming, head-banging tantrum that I can't just ignore because it leads to actual physical injury when unchecked.

This happens a dozen or so times a day now, everyday. There's is nothing fun or cute or pleasant about this. From beginning to end it is a nightmare.

I have homework to do. Will I get it done? Probably. But I will do it in this strange, disjointed way, where I won't read an entire sentence to completion in a single pass through. Instead I will search for my place, find it, read a word or two, turn to a child and shout some command like "put down that knife," turn back to the paper, search for my place... and writing answers is somewhat worse. I'm passing school in somekind of psuedo-conscious daze. It's like being stoned but way less fun.

Here's an example. At this exact moment, I can only see one of the twins. I don't know where the other is, and since the house is in complete silence, I will now go searching for him. This is annoying, I am in the kitchen and the kitchen is gated off with little child blocking gates because otherwise we have babies on the counters. So I will now hop the gates and go searching for the missing baby,

Adn the missing baby was found standing on top of the dryer. Having been removed, he is now screaming full force. This goes on through out the day. pretty much nonstop.

Allow me to make this as clear as I can. I hate my life. I hate waking up in the morning. I hate going to work. (I hate my job so much, it takes all I have left just to show up.) I hate raising children. I hate being perpetually broke. I hate juggling four different people's school schedules with one car. I hate living in the suburbs. I hate having no outside social life. I don't want this. Any of this.

Doesn't fucking matter what I want. This is what I have.