Relations between My Father and I have been good. But I don't know if he'd feel that way if he saw me foil his plans Thursday morning.
Thank God I had a meeting where I drank three beers for the time ever. Because I had to immediately pass out as soon as I got home around midnight. Which meant I woke up to the sound of my parents leaving. I waited about 15 minutes in case they forgot something, so I bolted out to brush my teeth at around 7:30.
When I looked outside I saw there was a bag lying next to the blue recycling bin I set out late the night before. When I looked in, I saw my papers. All the papers that I haven't gone through. My Fucking Father took one of the bags and put it out to recycle thinking that I wouldn't notice. But I did, fucker. So I took that bag and brought it back inside. Ha-ha, asshole.
The downside is he now has no qualms about playing dirty. Which means that I now have to wake up early every Thursday morning and take back the stuff My Fucking Father wants to throw out. Which is insane.
Which means the path of lesser resistance is actually going through my things and start throwing them away myself. I thought about giving up and just putting my stuff in a public storage space, but then I saw this, and even though they're just papers, I'm not going to pay to have my shit stolen.
So now I'm back to Square One. Meaning I have to alter my sleep schedule so My Fucking Father won't take my stuff from me. Goddammit...
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