The freezing water hits your skin each and every single morning. Turbulence is injected into your blunt state of mind. The unease and pain make room for numbness as you cool down. You gasp for air as you point the water jet towards your body one last time. You are alive.
Remember. Rage. Infer.
Complain about the respect you are not getting from them. Make sure you scream out loud, and then prepare your argument; hope they crumble. They have been like this forever; you know they will not change. You can only wait. You cannot remove yourself yet. Do your homework. Replay the scenario in your head, figure out what happened. Make sure you cover everything. Play your game. Say what you feel. Will they understand? Be patient.