I Am Dreading Tomorrow

This is the first weekend after The Store is officially closed. That means that for the first time ... well, ever, they will be home as I'm home this weekend, just any normal nuclear American family. That means they have all the fucking time in the world to pester me about cleaning my room. They've already started doing that, but they want me to do that this weekend now that I have time, and they'll be there to badger me into doing it.

But I won't do it. Why? Because I don't think cleaning my room is a fucking problem. I like my shit where it is right now. And cleaning my room is a fucking waste of time. I have no idea why my parents care so goddamn much.

So things come to a head as soon as dawn breaks. If it's bad enough, I'll have to start looking at other places to live, because having them at home 24/7 will be too fucking unbearable if they're going to hold me to doing "chores."