I like the gay

AUGH!

I can't find my cell phone charger. This is not the end of the world, but I am incredibly annoyed nonetheless, probably because this loss of my charger is directly because of my micromanaging mother who, if she could tell my molecules what to do and how to do it, would do exactly that.

Two days ago she saw my charger plugged in and said, "You should put that somewhere, so you don't forget it." I put up an argument, and ended up complying with my mother's wishes, as I always do, just to shut her up.

So I took my charger, put it somewhere (likely in my luggage, though now I'm not entirely sure), and now I can't find it. The luggage that I probably put it in has now been rearranged, because for some reason my mom finds my packing unsatisfactory, and she always has to pack my suitcases for me, despite the fact that I'm twenty-fucking-two.

Now I have no idea where the charger went, and I have gone through my luggage and can't find it. You know, if she hadn't felt the need to manage every single detail of my life (up to and including where I put my godammn cell phone charger so I don't fucking lose it) I think I might still be sane, and I might still have my charger and would not feel the horrible urge to be screaming at her because she rearranged my stuff.

Sometimes I really wish I had brought my comiket doujinshi home, because I would get a vague sort of satisfaction at shoving cock and ass in her face and going, "GAAAAAAAAAY! I LIKE THE GAAAAAAAAAY! DEAL WITH IT!" and seeing the horrified look on her face as I pointed out our ancestors, and pointed out the penetration, the cum, and the little censor bar.

I'm going to die of a heart attack one day, I just know it, because I'm so mad right now I feel like going out and killing something very big and nasty.