Parents wanted to cash in on "Medium Mondays" at Pizza Hut. Unfortunately, it's gone, replaced by their brand new menu where there are only three price points.
Anyway, I got home with the pizza before they got home. Phew! So glad they weren't waiting. In fact, they came home, like, two minutes after I did, so the pizza didn't sit around the dinner table getting old, either.
Three things in my internal monologue:
1) Grandmother came out, sat down, looked around, and waited. I knew what she was thinking: She was not going to get a slice of pizza until I or either of my parents open the box. Instead of opening the damn box herself -- and even though she's old, it's not as if the box lid is as heavy as the world Atlas had to hold up -- she waited for one of us to open it to get our own slice before sliding in and saying she wants one too. Having gone through this charade before, I too waited, while my parents got around to getting their slices.
Father wolfed down his first slice and wanted to grab a second from the pizza box inbetween us, but it opened from my end. I tried to spin it around and half-open it for him, but apparently being deaf and dumb during dinner didn't say anything and just putting at the box. Another sign that he thinks he impregnated Mother just so he could have a servant around.
So I open it for him, and of course, like a fucking geriatric ninja, just as I close it Grandmother goes, "Ooh-ooh-ooh, give me one!" (Maybe she didn't say "Ooh-ooh-ooh!" but I'm saying she did to make her sound stupid.) Goddamn, foiled again! So I sputter loudly, throw the pizza box I just opened on top of the other one, which was right in front of her, and throw open the lid, violently. Honestly, I thought either of my parents would stop scarfing down their pizza, look at me with a slowly-angering stare, then yell, "What the hell was that for?"
Look, maybe I overreacted. But I don't like my Grandmother's laziness and sense of entitlement, and I saw it coming a mile away -- and then I still got sucked into it. She can't get her own fuckin' pizza?
2) We have a TV in the dining room, and I sometimes get queasy over what I watch. Sometimes there's a show or a news story that somehow makes reference to a situation that relates to, uh, where I'm at right now. That's happened when I saw a scene about someone not finding a job, or being 40 and still living with their parents.
It happened again tonight. We were watching the PBS Newshour when a story came up about director Judd Apatow releasing a new book. The piece covered the movies he directed, and how they all seem to deal with men in arrested development. Apatow talked about the main theme going through his movies, namely guys who don't grow up, and how that reflected his life of not really assuming grown-up responsibilities like finding work and raising a family. That sounds like ... me.
Thank Buddha Father got up and didn't see this. But Mother did because she was still eating her pizza. At times when what the TV is showing cuts too close to the bone, I reach the for the remote. I don't want either of parents to watch this and then turn to me and go, "So, have you found a job/are you going back to school/have you thought about moving out/have you found a girlfriend yet?" so maybe changing to Wheel of Fortune would prevent that. On the other hand, maybe changing the channel lets them know I don't want them to see that and talk about it, and then they will talk about it.
I was paralyzed, so I didn't change the channel. I let the piece on Apatow air to the end before changing the channel. Luckily, neither Mother nor Father asked me about my future.
3) I ate six pizzas, which is kind of low for me. And yet I feel so fat! I put on the dress pants I plan on wearing for the week and I barely fit in them now. I exercise, but since the fall TV season is on I don't do it as much. I stayed in Saturday night and all day Sunday, and I racked up some big meals during that time without working out. So I feel like my pants are hurting me even more. Shit, the elastic pajama pants I'm wearing right now seem to be straining because of my rotund waist.
Another culprit: Monopoly. If you haven't heard, the Monopoly game is back at McDonald's. Since it started I've been going a few times a week and getting large fries and a medium drink. I still think I'm reining myself in, yet since I've done this I think I've gotten fatter.
Moreover, my throat doesn't feel good. Tonight I threw up a little in my mouth. Actually, that's a common occurrence. I think this is acid reflux disease. I should go to the fridge and pop a Pepto-Bismol tablet, but now it's too late. And my throat still feels queasy and acidic.
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