You know, I thought everything was going swimmingly today.  My Father and I weren't fighting; in fact, we were getting along, talking, all that shit.

And then My Fucking Father says tonight, "You are not smart when it comes to money and stocks."  And then he asks me if I have a job waiting for me when we get back from Europe.  And when I tell him the truth, he again tells me go to back to school, with this goddamn insult: "You slept 15 hours once."  That was a decade ago -- those were the days -- and it was only 13, asshole.

I am beyond hurt.  I just quietly say "Okaaaaaaay," in that same whiny voice he uses when he says it, then not do it.  That's very pathological, I know, and it means I have some deep issues, I know, but it's the only defense mechanism that works towards my objective: To get back at him.

Fuck you, Father.