Shit, it's odd writing that word out. I've gotten used to writing seventeen (hell, you see it on the newsstands often enough) and sixteen...but eighteen is new. As in, this is the first time I've written it out in regards to my age.

Anyway, less than two months now, and it's becoming an important topic. It has been for some time, in regards to the potential moving-to-Florida plan Plum and I have going. She kept on telling me - and I knew it, too - You're going to be 18 soon, and then you won't want to put up with this shit. (The shit being the parents and their...shenanigans.)

But I'm writing this because of what I told the mirror in the main bathroom last night. Plum and I were talking over the phone about something or other (I remembered it once; it'll come to me - oh yeah, selling stuff on eBay), and she was surprised I didn't know the exact number of days until my birthday (when I can legally sell). Last night I realized why I haven't been counting.

It won't make a damned difference.

I knew (know) Mom will keep up her shit after I'm 18, but it's becoming FRIGHTFULLY clear now. Mostly because my eyes have been opened, and I can suddenly see exactly HOW stifling they are. And they're so used to it (bossing me around, being stifling), change is impossible.

Maybe.

Talked to the shrink today, and she understands what I mean by all this. But she's optimistic, and thinks there can be change. Mostly in me separating myself from Them, in going out and doing more with friends and making my own decisions.

We also talked about my getting a ferret, 'cause I saw a pet store this morning and asked the mum if I could get one. No. (Oh, of course not. Bitch.) Why not? (No answer.) Fine then.

We'll see, though. I'm going to investigate having one. Suckage may ensue, however, as looking at an informational ferret site just gave me hope for having one. Ah well, another year and I'll be in an apartment with five.

I just want something to keep me happy during that year. The other day I was so upset at Her, the thought of winter was horrifying. 'Cause winter is long, and spring too. AND winter's depressing. Bleah.

I'm trailing now, so I guess I'll wrap. *Wrap*