Why does my life suck so very, very much?

Seems to be the question revolving in my head today. I hate today. Like, officially done with breathing the air that the fucking universe has to offer me today kind of hatred. I need a brick wall with poison tipped spikes to beat my face against to forget that the past 24 hours ever happened. Fuck fuck fuck.

"Why? What happened that's so bad?" I know that's what you're asking. Well shut your goddamn face. Nothing extremely "bad" happened, per-say. Just an all around smattering of fucking shit all deciding to come hang out in my brain today. Can I just start off with the fact that

I

hate

my

job

? Can I start there? Because I do. I hate my job almost as much as I hate my ex. I hate getting up at five in the morning while my unemployed ass of a fiancée (maybe...we'll get there later) continues his slumbering, complete with snores and whines about the goddamn light being on. I hate putting on the fucking blue polo shirt and those goddamn khakis that are wayyyyyyyyyy too big, and wayyyyyy too short. I hate dragging my ass to the kitchen to scramble and throw mine and little man's lunches and breakfasts together, all the while cussing myself for not doing it last night. I hate pulling my sleepy, and now grumpy 2 year old out of bed at 6am. I hate the every morning all out fight that is getting him dressed. I hate the way I think horrible thoughts about how lovely it was to not have children. I HATE the goddamn drive to that fucking building in Gwinnett. I hate i85 with a fiery, burning passion that consumes my soul. I hate other people that drive. I hate other things too, but I'm not going to go there on the internet, you never know who's watching. 

I love children, I really do. I love teaching, I love hearing their stories, but fuck. I'm burnt out. Like.... way burnt out. Like, considering going back to school for paralegal burnt out. 

I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT PARALEGAL.... NESS. WHY WOULD I CHOOSE THAT?!?!?! 

(Back to brick/poison wall... slam slam slam)

I also HATE the fact that I am 23 years old with a 2 year old, working full time, working my ASS off, and I still live at home with my mom. As in, I work full time for NOTHING. I can't afford to move, I can't afford to buy groceries, I can't afford light/water/cable/cell phone bills. Fuck my life. Am I gonna live here FOREVER because I'm NOT EVER going to be able to make more than $10000 a year? Fuck man. 

"What about your fiancee (maybe) in the army? Why doesn't he help?" you may ask. Simple. He can't get a fucking job. Like, CAN'T. Like, has been putting in multiple applications everyday since he came home and nothing has worked out for him can't. So now he sits at home, drinking rum, filling out online applications, and waiting on me to get home. And I love coming home to him. I love him more than I thought it was possible for me to love someone given my past. But goddamn it, how long do I have to deal with this? He's unemployed, can't afford gas (so I put it in his car) can't afford food (so I cook for him) can't afford to rent movies (you're welcome) but somehow SOME-FUCKING-HOW he still manages to have a rum and coke in his had every time I look at him. Magic alcohol fairy? God I wish. 

And this GODDAMN wedding that's coming up. I don't fucking want it, I don't want anything to do with it, and after the fight that we went through last night, I don't even think I want to marry him. How the fuck am I supposed to tell my mom that I'm in the middle of a big mistake and to get her goddamn deposit back on the fucking venue that I don't even like? I've literally cried all day long. Not because I'm sad about not having a wedding, but because I really don't want to let my family down after they've done all this fucking work on this fake ass wedding already. Goddammit. 

I do want to marry him. I just don't want it to be this rushed, and fuck knows he doesn't give 3 shits about the whole fucking deal. Why should I care at all when he is not at ALL invested in it? Fuck this bullshit, I'm so goddamn mad right now. And my ONE friend that I can call and rant like this too and then meet at the bar for a little drink to chill out just moved to goddamn NC. 

So here I sit, no ring on my hand, no money in the bank, crying in my mom's upstairs room on HER computer wishing my phone would ring and he would tell me that he loves me and that we might just be alright. But, because I'm a masochist, even if he did call and try to tell me that I would probably tell him to fuck himself and come get his goddamn shit out of my room.

I hate myself most of the time.