Today I was vacillating on whether or not I should help My Fucking Father with the printer when I got ready to leave for the day. In the end, I didn't think ignoring him since Thursday night after he told me he fixed the printer and that it needed more ink was going to help family relations. So I went down there to investigate. He told me that in fact the printer was not fixed, but, in a weird case where we flipped opposing viewpoints, he was wrong again and that it really was fixed, he just needed to make sure a page was printing to that particular printer and not to some fax feature that was there that I never knew got there.
So after cleaning the nozzle heads it's all good again, and the ink levels are more than fine. So I was about to leave when he asked me where I was going (to work, I lied) and then, once again, he goes, "Hey, when you have time, why don't you go looking for a better job." Out of the blue. Even though I have one -- well, had one but then immediately going to another one on Monday, and no, I won't tell you. And after all the shit I did for you, this is the fucking thanks I get?
I walked away from him. Then, while I was putting on my shoes I had to vent under my breath: "You're fuckin' welcome." Guess family relations are kind of fucked right now, huh?
Seriously, though -- go fuck yourself, old man.
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