There has been less panic needed on the part of my parents to call back and check on the mail. Most of the stuff they'd be worried about is in regards to their real estate properties, and although Mother bitches about them, I think they're doing a better (or at least a more professional) job putting out any fires. They has (or at least should) alleviate my parents' hectoring, and that means less frequent calls home. They're in China right now, where wi-fi is spotty, but the breaks inbetween times where they are at a modern hotel that has wi-fi isn't a source of concern. Well, at least on my end, anyway.
Therefore, that allows me to go out at night not worried that they'll call or leave a message asking me if this has come or whether I've done that. OK, even if they do call every day and night asking me about shit -- like they did the previous times they've been away for long periods of time -- I still go out and I still don't care. Like last (Tuesday) night, where, after work, I went to the Mall of America to buy replacement iPhone chargers. (I went there for a couple other things, neither of which I was able to do; that might be a good subject for a blog post later, if I remember.) I went after work so I could wait out the traffic, but even then it took long enough whereby I didn't have time to go home before the 7 o'clock showing of The Intern, so I went from the Megamall straight to the movie theater. I had to go to the gas station to deposit some checks and then I could come home. By then it was close to 10 o'clock, about 14 1/2 hours after I left home. Damn, these are long days.
When I turned on my phone and picked up the house wi-fi network I saw that they WhatsApped me. And just my luck, it wasn't Mother, like it has been every single time we've communicated. It came from the account of My Fucking Father. Assuming it is My Fucking Father and not Mother (and I'll admit that there's a possibility they use their WhatsApp accounts interchangeably, I don't know), goddamn I'll be in some deep made-up shit from him in the morning. I'll be able to feel him yelling through the texts, something about getting him the sleeping pills he's addicted to, or the eggs that I need to pack, or some other thing he thinks fit to yell at me over. Goddamn -- I take one evening out on the town for myself and of course that's the time they try to fucking contact me.
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