Broken wardrobe..

NOT happy. I’m still stuck in bed feeling incredibly Ill but it’s just getting worse.
The wardrobe in my room is made up of four sections, all with sliding glass doors.
I was walking past it yesterday and noticed one of the panels in a door was completely shattered.
The wardrobe cost nearly £800 and I know if my parents find out they won’t just kill me chop me up and feed me to the dog they’ll lecture me until I’m begging to be killed, chopped up and fed to the dog.
‘You don’t respect anything that’s given to you, you know how much that wardrob- infact, how much your whole room cost us! Do you like to watch us slave away to earn money to give you nice things so you can break them and throw it all away? How can you be so horrible! Do you see your brother and sister doing stuff like this? We let you have your friends round and all you do is break stuff, do you actually do anything or just list ways to upset us michaela?’
‘Yes mum, I smashed my wardrobe on purpose.’
No matter what I say to her, that is all she will hear.
I managed to phone the builder who bought the wardrobes and fitted them to ask him where he got them from.
Once I had the contact details, i phoned the company and described the wardrobe to them. Unfortunately, the don’t sell the single panels of glass, only the whole doors. At £40 a door. ‘Not too bad’ I thought. Only a huge cut into the money I have.
Then I was able to get a lift to a place called wins ford which meant more money to the person giving me a lift. God only knows what excuse I’ll make so I can get out for the day!!
Now all I need to do, is get to ikea, buy the door, somehow get it into my room, pay someone to take off my old door, dispose of that door (HOW?), get that same someone I’m paying to put on a new door and then everything will be fine and I won’t be this worried.
All in all, I can say goodbye nice nails and new college clothes and a shopping trip in August and dip-dyed hair.
Anything for an easy life I suppose!

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Appreciation for Parents.

At this age, you think you know it all.
But we don’t.

we wouldn’t be anything without our mum’s and dads.

we wouldn’t have clean clothes, a nice, cooked dinner on the table. We wouldn’t have the money to pay for things such as the broadband so many of us can’t imagine life without.

We wouldn’t have ANYTHING, and we certainly don’t show them the appreciation they deserve.

Parents are the ones who, first and foremost, gave us the greatest gift of all; the gift of LIFE. without them, I wouldn’t be here writing this, and you wouldn’t be there reading it. After that they go on to feed us, clothe us, teach us to talk, to walk, to run. They are the ones who kiss that poorly knee better once you’ve fallen of the bike Dad taught you to ride and Mum saved up to buy for you. Parents enrol us into school to give us a good, qualitative education and they teach us wrong from right.

They are the ones we go to for advice, the ones that make christmas happen (That doesn’t just happen, You know. Parents literally put blood, sweat and a lot of money into making christmas what it is.), that buy our birthday cakes and presents, they shed that proud tear when you say that one line you have in the school play you’ve been practicing for months.

They had a life once before they brought us into the world. They could go out when they pleased to see friends or go to see a film or to drink, yet they gave most of it up so that they could care for you and let you live the life they substituted for you.

They save and they work to earn the money that makes your world go round.

Yet we take that for granted.

‘My mum’s a bitch.’ When she won’t let you go to see the new band you like without an adult, because you’re not old enough to look after yourself, even if you think you are, the minute that big strong man see’s you and picks you up, you have no chance.

She isn’t doing it to be a bitch, she’s doing it to protect you.

I’ve done it, I still do. I take my parents for granted every single day. Those little things they spend time doing,  that make the difference.

‘Dad’s a douche’ because he wont give YOU the ten pounds that YOU want to spend on a new top. That ten pounds HE worked for. HE spent time earning?

What gives you the right to take that away from him?

I’m not saying the kids of this generation are bad kids, I’m saying sometimes we all forget how much our parents worked for us, fought for us, bought for us, gave up for us.

They made their own lives harder, so ours could be great.

Say Thank you to them.