Shit, for which I am Sad

So, today, I was home by myself while my grandparents ran to the bank. I washed dishes, I washed and folded clothes, and I made sure that everything was neat and tidy. Then, just as I sat down to resume the video game I've been trying to beat for the past three days, a thought occurred to me. I should be doing something productive.

So, after a moment of thought, while I gathered my courage, wits, and the sewing scissors, I decided to try something new that I had read about online. Deconstructing a t shirt.

Now, I didn't want to use a shirt that I wear all of the time, so I grabbed a USA Football shirt that my mother had given me for when he gets tickets to a game. I grabbed this shirt for two reasons, one: there was no way possible that I could have made this shirt any more unattractive than it already was, and two: it's about three sizes to large for me.

I marked on the back of the shirt with sidewalk chalk, since I had no tailors chalk, and began cutting. I decided that since it was my first time to attempt this, I should go with something simple, so I braided a section of the back.

When I was finished, the shirt was more my size and fitted, with an envious design on the back. I was so excited, I modeled the finished project to my family.

Now, my mom, loved it and asked me to do the same to her shirt. My grandmother, was passive about the whole thing. Then, there was my grandfather, sitting in the recliner of the living room,

"That looks like shit."

was what he said, and nothing more.

So, i took the shirt off, and buried it in a drawer, where it will never be seen again.

You see, the thing with my grandfather is, when I show him something that I made, he just nods and doesn't say anything. So, I'm wondering if this was just a burst of what he wants to say all the time, and he just couldn't contain it.

What really bothers me though, is how much it bothers me. Normally, I could not care less about the opinion of others. Really. It's not like I'm a I-hate-the-world-and-don't-give-a-damn-person, quite the opposite actually. I'm more of a I-respect-that-you-don't-like-it-but-I-do-so-I-don't-really-care-what-you-think person.

That bothered me though, to the point that I don't feel like doing anything at all now.

I'm hoping that I will feel better tomorrow. My friend and I are having a summer blow out weekend, to sort of balance the first day of school. A sort of, karma thing, if you will.

After typing all of that, I realized that it sounds like a mope story, and when I started typing, I didn't intend for it to sound like a mope story. Oh well.

Cheers?