Out of the blue, but probably venting after a day of cleaning the house to a polish and taking out the recycling bin, My Fucking Father goes from putting up the shower curtain he washed today to nagging at me about how how I leave so early in the morning and and returning after 11 hours. Told him I was on the computer for a couple hours after work, but no, My Fucking Father took this as an opportunity to lambaste me for this temp job (which I've already told him it was, and to which he has already yelled at me for) and said that I should either get a job with benefits or go back to school. Oh, fuck you, you dumb asshole, for not only wasting my goddamn time with the same bullshit that keeps pouring out of your mouth but also blindsiding me with this boring mouth diarrhea in the middle of dinner.
God, for that I don't think I'm coming back tomorrow till 7. You want to stew while waiting for me to come home so we can eat dinner together? We'll see how far you'll wait until you should just fucking eat on your own, like I want you to. Let's see how fucking far you want to take this. (Actually probably not, I kind of want to come home by 5:30 one of these days.)
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