Thankful for Eight Months until Thanksgiving

Getting together with family for holidays has always been awkward for me.  It's like sitting in a room full of strangers.  For whatever reason, these strangers have the comprehension skills of a gold fish and they seem to take pleasure in the fact that things are not going well for me, especially since I was stupid enough to go to college thinking it would take me somewhere and they were smart enough to obtain full-time employment with a high school diploma.  My cousin is doing an internship for an agency that's affiliated with the one that terminated my employment, so I'm sure now everyone knows because no one said anything to me.  Through the struggle of the past couple of years I've come to dread the inevitable 'so...where are you working now?' and/or 'how's your job going?' questions because I'm always working somewhere different (if I'm working at all) and it's never going well.  It appears to have become a joke of some sort to them, punctuated by the fact that I'm still in school and living in a house I want to burn down.  I don't know what they don't understand about the fact that when you own a house that's not in a condition to be sold in an awful housing market and no job to provide an income to fix it, moving probably isn't a viable option which is unfortunate because if I could move I could probably find a decent job.  If they had the ability to reason then maybe they'd understand that the Biggest L pretty much bent me over and fucked me in the ass on his way out the door.  Unfortunately, we're talking about people who cannot perform simple arithmetic or even understand the concept of Monopoly.  I'm glad they're amused.  One day I hope to be able to report that something is going well for me, but until then, happy fucking Easter. 
For your enjoyment:  This morning my dog wouldn't shit when I took him outside even though he clearly had a prairie dog situation happening and I even walked him around the entire yard (and it's a big ass yard).  After it was clear that he was refusing to let it go, we came back inside where I discovered that he had just puked in my slipper.