Got home late because I wanted to eat at the Pizza Luce in Roseville. (They close at 2:30. A hip, alcohol-serving, suburban sit-down place closes at 2:30. There needs to be more places like this.) Wanted a ticket to the MNRG bout Saturday (a friends' final game announcing) and then I wanted to eat at Pizza Luce. Got home at around 1:30; went to bed soon after.
Woke up at 8:30. Turned on Stephanie Miller. Faded back to sleep, off-an-on. Finally, just before 11, Father yells through my bedroom door, "Are you awake?" To which I say yes and -- this might be where I erred -- I opened the door, which gives him the opportunity to say, of course, "Yeah, maybe you should find something to do in the morning!"
I slam the door shut so I could gin up the courage to say what I wanted to say to him under my breath: "I got home at 1:30, asshole, I WAS SLEEPING!!!" But whatever, man. I think I'll find "something to do" in the morning, like have coffee and talk to my therapist about you and the damage you continue to do to me. And by the way, I should look up that test scoring job that might start during the evenings next week. That'll give me another "something to do," huh, old man?
Woke up at 8:30. Turned on Stephanie Miller. Faded back to sleep, off-an-on. Finally, just before 11, Father yells through my bedroom door, "Are you awake?" To which I say yes and -- this might be where I erred -- I opened the door, which gives him the opportunity to say, of course, "Yeah, maybe you should find something to do in the morning!"
I slam the door shut so I could gin up the courage to say what I wanted to say to him under my breath: "I got home at 1:30, asshole, I WAS SLEEPING!!!" But whatever, man. I think I'll find "something to do" in the morning, like have coffee and talk to my therapist about you and the damage you continue to do to me. And by the way, I should look up that test scoring job that might start during the evenings next week. That'll give me another "something to do," huh, old man?
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