My Box

See, I shouldn't get pissed off all that much that I saw a box, a box that contained chocolates that I bought and had shipped online, was outside next to the recycling bag.  But that means that My Fucking Father went into my room, decided that I have too much of "my stuff," looked at the box, looked at the box next to it, took the contents out of the box that once had chocolates (and it contained a copy of The Handmaid's Tale and some other shit), put those in the box next to it, and took it outside.

The pettiness is coming from him.  He would take the time to take one small box out of my room ... one box that wasn't hurting anyone, including him.  There was no goddamn reason to take it out, but it triggered My Fucking Father so much that he drew a line in the sand and made a point to do so.

Pick your battles ... I broke it down and threw it into the recycling bag.

But oh, I shall remember.