After dinner I worked out. After working out I went for some coffee and some time on my computer. Maybe I shouldn't have since there was a huge rainstorm on my way to the coffeeshop. A couple times this past summer I wanted to go out but didn't because inclement weather was on its way. I thought that as long as there weren't any tornadoes, I'd be fine. But, driving through rain falling so fast and hard I need to use the high setting on my windshield makes me reconsider.
Anyway, I wanted to catch the opening of Jimmy Kimmel Live because I thought he'd talk about that JetBlue stewardess man who quit over the intercom and used the emergency slide to leave the plane. (By the way, I have two thoughts on that: The pictures I've seen of him have him smiling creepily, so I'm not going to call him a folk hero yet; and I want to know who the identity of the woman who hit and cursed at him and apparently sent him over the edge.) I failed.
However, when I came in I saw My Father, who left before me after dinner because he needed to buy some stuff at the hardware store. For the first time in many days, he was less than nice to me: "Why were out so late?" he asked, presumably in relation to the huge rainstorm.
"I was working," was my weak reply. But the battle lines have been set. Just a half-hour ago, even though I went downstairs to eat Mother's flan which is a sure sign I was up, My Fucking Father disconnected the modem right while I was using it. So I just went down there to plug it in again. Not for all night like last night -- I need to keep the peace, I did use the Internet tonight when I was out for coffee, and I should concentrate on working on my writing -- but I need it to blog about this and surf through Reality King porn before the night's through.
Still think he did this to get back at me. So now I'm getting back at him.
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