I was dreading what My Father would say to me as I crossed paths with him in the dining room after I came back home. But he didn't yell at me. First he asked if he wanted to eat the noodles he just ate. Then he proceeded to yell at me again for not going back to school. But then he quickly changed the subject and talked about real estate. Again. For the next 80 minutes he talked about his real estate properties, with quesions about my future, badmouthing our relatives and warnings to brush my teeth sprinkled in. At least I think so; it was hard to pay attention.

I'm glad he's not yelling at me, but this is, like, the second or third time he just had this one-way conversation with me. And again, he sounded lost and dejected. In fact, the whole thing was bizarre and confusing. Did he really just want to talk to me for 80 minutes?

He really may be losing his mind now.