I just finished doing some cleaning that really needed to be done (as in, for weeks or months). I mopped the kitchen floor, cleaned the stove, cleaned two bathroom floors, a tub, a bidet, and two sinks (I did the toilets yesterday), and combed cat fur off the carpet (we don't have a vacuum cleaner).

But the stove's not spotless, nor the floors, nor the tub... if I had spent maybe half an hour longer on the stove, I'd have gotten that stain off. If I had put more muscle into it, that tub would be cleaner. If... if....

I've been cleaning for around 4 hours or so. To me, it doesn't mean anything. It's something I should have done ages ago. Mind you I live in dorms, and I'm staying with my dad for now, so I'm basically doing it for him.

And of course I feel like I haven't been doing enough for him. He's got a million things to do, health problems to boot, and he still cooks me dinner or drives me places or wherever. And I feel guilty as hell asking him to take me places, so maybe I don't say, "Yes, this is what I want, and that's final." I let him decide... but that frustrates him because he wants me to basically tell him what to do. But my assertiveness is shot to hell, so you can see where this is going.

I could go on and on, but I'm going to hop in the car so we can change the oil. And of course I blame myself for the belt for the fan and power steering shredding because... it makes so much sense to blame myself for everything that happens to anyone.

I'm veering off a bit. Maybe I'll talk later.

Oh, and of course I feel guilty for bothering you all with this. I guess I'm hoping someone will say something, even if I'm going to shrug it off and dwell on my self-loathing.

And of course my Internet has to suck. So now I'm in the car, thankful I copied what I typed, because otherwise it would all be gone.