Eating Fast Food As An Act Of Rebellion

I should be forever grateful for having free food to eat for dinner, I know.  Still, for the past couple nights I have not been impressed with what I ate.  We had, as a main course, some ... well, I really don't know.  What I'm guessing is so really fatty beef, the kind with a lot of fatty skin, the top of which you could still see the short hairs on the dermis.  I could eat it, sure, but it's not my favorite.  Worse than that, for the past couple nights I have had to eat this dark green, sugary bean soup Mother makes on occasion.  I fucking hate eating/drinking it.  Just hate it.

So, anticipating I would have to eat all that crap for a third night in a row, and in a way rebelling and asserting my own independence in an effort to eat tasty food, I ate fast food before coming home.  I thought I would be coming home closer to 5 because there is a lot of work at work, but instead I was able to come home closer to 4.  But I had told Father before I left in the morning that I would be coming home by 5.  But, I then decided I was going to eat before going home ... and eating.  I wasn't coming home at 4 after all.

But where to eat?  I couldn't decide.  I first thought Dairy Queen, because the warm days aren't going to last and ice cream won't make sense by the time it's cold out (not like I haven't eaten ice cream when it's been cold out anyway).  But there was this frozen drink I haven't tried at McDonald's yet -- now, which one was it?  It didn't matter; I jerked my car over to the lane in order to turn, and I used a deal to get the blue ... uh, slushie (?) and a McChicken.  But it was still warm out, and it'd be a waste of a day to not spend at least five minutes enjoying ice cream outside.  So, I texted my parents saying that I would get home closer to 4:30, and then I used a deal for a small chocolate shake.  Aaaaaaaaaaaaaah.  Oh, I got home closer to 4:45.  I think they're used to me not coming home when I said I would, but it's something I should work on.

So, I ate a McChicken, a medium blue raspberry (?) slushie, and a small chocolate shake before coming home.  Oh, and I ate a banana and a croissant, food Father forces me to take to work to eat.  And what do my folks have waiting for me?  Not that scary fatty beef fat skin.  It was spaghetti.  My favorite food.  And it tasted good.  And it would have tasted better if I had an emptier stomach.  Oh, and no sugar bean slop tonight, either.

Maybe I should have known I wouldn't eat that crap three nights in a row. ...