Anyway, feeling defensive and sad most of the time takes a toll on your mind. Every day, especially as soon as my parents come home, is a mind game that I may be playing only with myself. But I just can't help the fact that I have to gird myself in case anything bad happens, because oftentimes it does. As I've said before, the anticipation about how my parents feel, in particular My Fucking Father, takes up a lot of my mental attention.
Take yesterday, for example. I wanted to grease any wheels that needed greasing by calling Mother and asking her is she needed anything from the grocer's (she wanted kiwis, which I got). I got home just after they did; in fact, they were getting out of their car when I drove up the driveway. As I was, and Mother was lifting a branch off one of the dead-looking flowers on the walkway, My Fucking Father looks at me. And I swear he gave me The Eye. That look, you know? That look that says, "Why do you haunt me? Why do you torment me by your presence? I have plans on turning your room into my gameroom -- why won't you move out?"
Why haven't I? Anyway, I'm in defensive mode. I assume, and I think correctly, that Father is in Vindictive Mode, so I have to keep my guard up. And such an approach was employed at the dinner table later that evening, when I told them that I won't be eating dinner Wednesday because I'm attending a Happy Hour. Mother asked, "Do you have to pay?" to which I say no, I don't think so. Then Father chimes in with a typically juvenile question: "Do they pay you?"
Now I know what he's thinking: Why don't you get a job? Actually, I do have a job, and to get My Fucking Father off my back I've told him I've got one. It is just two hours a day, three days a week, for ten bucks an hour, but it's still a job. I think I told him this, therefore his bitchy question wasn't warranted. Told him so with my tone, too; I said, "No. Why do you ask?" as I tilted my head to one side, the unspoken statement coming from which being, "Well that's a stupid thing to say." He didn't say anything afterward.
But then, to smooth things over, I drift downstairs to their computer, in case they need me to do anything. And sure enough, Father wanted me to do something, and without acting like an asshole while requesting it. He was confused about some form he needed yesterday, and I helped him open up the attachment and print it out. He's buying some property or something.
OK, so maybe the look and the question weren't intended to be as mean as I thought they were. But later, as I made them sign and initial the forms they needed to send back, Mother (who is a co-owner of this place) balked. I wanted to exercise, so I just left them alone to talk things out. I went to the bathroom and gathered my things, and as I get ready leave the house, I hear them arguing downstairs, then hear a door slam a couple times. OK, so maybe Father and Mother were being mean today. (Maybe not Mom, though; she didn't like that I wiped a rice bowl I got for her with the wrong towel. Instead of yelling at me, she just took the bowl and rinsed it herself. It'd be moments like that where I would be the one that would flip out, but this time, I just let it slide.)
Whatever, I get a good workout in and come back. I was in the mood for the apple juice that is just sitting in the downstairs refrigerator. All I wanted was some juice. I go downstairs, in the dark so as not to wake up the 'Rents past midnight, and get the juice. Again, I don't turn on the lights because they're sleeping and I've done this many times and I haven't run into anything in at least five years.
What I usually do to protect myself is to put my hand out in case I'm walking into a wall. I do that, hoping nothing will go wrong ... but then I push something over. And it shatters into what sounds like a million pieces.
So now I have to turn on the lights and cause a commotion because of the mess I made. And I have to stay there until I clean it all up because my parents wake up frequently to piss and they're going to be walking on those bits of Pyrex.
I'm anticipating their rage when they open the door. It took them a couple minutes. Did they actually sleep through it? No, I figure, they're in a deep sleep and that crash was so loud it's taken them a couple minutes to figure out what the hell's going on, and once they realized it, and that I did it, I'm going to get it.
As I'm sweeping up the bits of fake glass, I finally hear the stirrings from their bedroom. Like I thought, My Father came out first. But instead of yelling at me for waking him up, he said, "Broke a glass, huh?"
Didn't say anything. For all shit I thought he was giving me tonight, I feel really awful about this. I'm such a klutz, and I just didn't want to bother anybody by what I did, and I ended up doing that and more. And all I wanted was some apple juice.
Well, either because he didn't think I did a good job or he actually wanted to help, he took the broom and started sweeping himself. Then Mother got up and pointed out that some of the glass got under their door and the door of the closet right next to it. Shit, man, this was everywhere. It took 10 minutes out of our lives, but I think everything's swept up. And thank God, they didn't give me any shit for breaking the glass measuring cup in the middle of the night and waking them up.
I will say this, only because I'm an asshole: In his insane mission to move everything out of the house, he moved the pool table to one corner of the current game room and the wicker chair to under the altar. Before, that wicker chair was in front of the ledge that I ran into; if I ran into the chair, I knew (in the dark) that I was too far to the right of the stairs. Now, not only do I not have that, the chair is to my left, so I had to veer right. I now have to zig-zag to make sure I get to the stairs, and I just didn't move to the left fast enough, and I met the ledge instead.
Of course, I also didn't have to stick my hand out right in front of me. If I put my hand out at, say, hip level, I wouldn't have knocked anything over. So ... yeah, it's my fault. Goddamn I hope they don't use this against me later. And I hope the measuring cup I bought this morning makes up for it.
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