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    ..."You know when, under what kind of conditions, would I buy that dress for you?"  Mom asked.

    "When Hell freezes over?"  I offered helpfully.

    "When you are a good daughter."

    Mom then proceeded to list my major faults and bad habits -- habits which she had thought she had broken years ago.  Said in such a way, I realized that I was, in fact, quite selfish, lazy, and to top it off, immature.  Not to mention irresponsible, irritable, and in no way under God's blue sky neat.  Needless to say, they were qualities I would've preferred in someone else other than myself.

    I felt thoroughly chatised for a moment.  I wanted -- want -- to be mature.  Desperately.  Enough to please my mother, to earn profound respect from others.  But I couldn't -- can't -- mature.  I get so irritable and waspish that my efforts at maturity just disappear.  I've been trying to act mature, to keep my temper, most of all.  It's so damn hard.  I wanted two weeks of total indulgence -- no works, all play.  Now I realize that it's impossible for me to take any time off from my responsibilities.  Forever.

    God, it's so depressing.  All I wanted was to live without worries.

    I'm so loathe to take on my responsibilities -- responsibilities I should've taken a long time ago.  Damn, even the word's a pain in to write out.  Mom was right.  I am spoiled silly.  Maybe not as much as Erica, but spoiled is spoiled.  It's no consolation that I know I'm spoiled, whereas Erica doesn't.  I guess I'm also afraid of work.  I so want to be good.  But it's damn hard.

    I'm afraid to look deeper within myself, to discover all the flaws and imperfections in my character.  I've been so busy imagining my character with endearing faults and winning assets that I've completely ignored my real self.  Well, maybe that's not entirely true.  I might've embellished that metaphor a bit.

    It's depressing to know how bad a person I really am.  I hate it so much.  And I think I know how to improve -- whip myself into action and responsibility -- but the very reason to improve myself prevents me from doing so.  I think it's the laziness.  Aw, who's trying to impress who?  I know it's the laziness.