One More Day, Man, One More Day

In sort-of following up on the matter of retrieving my stuff and not having My Fucking Father see it ... I have "left" and continue to "leave" after dinner as a ruse to take out the trash instead of him.  That way, he doesn't look in the trash bin to see that one of the two bags of stuff he so rudely threw in there is gone -- taken by me, whisked away into my storage unit.

I did that Monday, where I used the excuse that I had to go to the library.  I didn't, but since I told my parents I was, Mother asked me to actually print out some things for her, so a lie turned into the truth.  I wanted to see ******a to get a massage then, but I had to put it off till yesterday evening, and the lie I told my folks was that I forgot to do something at work and I had to go back to make sure I did it right or else my boss would be mad at me.

I need to do this one more time.  I am going to tell them that I have to go to the library again -- alumni club stuff, I'll say.  Tomorrow is garbage day, so I will need to wheel trash down to the end of the driveway.  If I can pull that off, and if My Fucking Father doesn't trundle out in the cold and look inside the trash bin for any reason before the haulers dump in tomorrow morning, for all he knew, one of the bags of my stuff was taken away.  (Actually I should take something back: That other bag is mostly recyclables that my parents tossed -- I think.  There are a few things in there that was taken from my bedroom, but they needed to be recycled.  But now that I think about it, I should take one more look inside, even though it's in the recycling bin, that won't get hauled away until next week.  Oh, to my point: If My Fucking Father looks in the recycling bin Thursday and sees a bag that he put in the trash bin, I'll tell him I fixed his mistake.)

So long as I don't blow up and accuse him of throwing my stuff away (although he might already think that I know), I might just be able to get away with this.