I think I'll have a heart attack and die from that surprise.

Fam asked me out to dinner tonight. I should have been suspicious. If I had been, my misgivings would have been validated by the two-hour long whinge about money I was forced to sit through. I asked for her help shipping a few small boxes to the PNW since my suitcases would be full. Help, mind. I offered to pay half, but told her I didn't want to spend money unless I had to because I didn't have any money right now. (I won't till February, and my first full paycheck will be in March.)

"Well hasn't Unc given you money? He said he gave you money."
"Yes, he has been paying for my gas, my groceries, and the books I needed for my final papers."
"Oh. Well, I'm buying you clothes tomorrow, and I gave you spending money already."
"I know. I used it to pay my bills."
"I just don't know how much more money I can give you."

Two minutes later, she's bitching about how her car is in the shop because she backed into a trash can and scratched the paint. That, there? That's an essential repair.

Then, at dinner, the student loans.
"So, my payment was due on the 5th."
"Oh, how much will it be?"
"I don't know."
"I usually pay eight or nine thousand. How much will it be?"
"I'm not sure. That is the extent of my knowledge."
"Well, you don't have to be snippy!"
"You asked me the same question twice in a row. Is my answer supposed to change?"
"Well. By the way, have you looked into loans yet?"
"No, you told me I'd be paying for summer semester."
"Well, your college fund is almost empty."
"Unfortunately, I have declined student loans this year, by your request."
"I told you this a week ago." (Yes, because that's relevant. )
"I can always take a loan out through my bank."
"Well, a Stafford loan would have less interest."
"Yes, but I declined the Stafford loan, like you told me to."
"Oh, well, you may need to get a loan from somewhere else."
"Oddly enough, that's what I was thinking."

And then finally, when we were discussing birth control. (Quite against my will, mind.)

"I really just want to get an ablation."
"Would they do that for you? I'm surprised they gave you an IUD."
"They didn't have a choice on that one. Anyway, they know I don't want to have kids."
"Oh, wait until you're 35 before deciding anything. You might change your mind!"
"I doubt it. First of all, pregnancy with fibromyalgia is reportedly excruciating. Secondly, being unmedicated, bipolar, AND hormonal for nine months doesn't sound like a picnic. Then, there's the postpartum depression because of my medication. Bipolar people are put on suicide watch after birth. Then, I wouldn't be able to breastfeed. Anyway, I think it's irresponsible to have children knowing what horrible genetic problems I could be giving them. I don't want to knowingly give my offspring bipolar disorder."
"Well, you should talk to a geneticist about that. The chances of me giving Claire my depression disorder were really low."
"Yes, but that's not even in the same league as bipolar I disorder. People with my problem have a tendency to go insane. You know what happened to mom."
"Yes, I do. And you know, from a family perspective, I'm really glad you got treated. You've been really pleasant to be around this time, and I'm sure you think we're a lot more tolerable, too."
"Uh-huh."

I wish the sighs I heaved had mass and heat-seeking capabilities. I would totally punch people with my breath.