Thursday, October 28, 2021

My Fucking Father Asshole Enough?

I have a day planner.  I write down every transaction I make with cash in it.  It takes me a while to write them down, however.  I just take all the receipts I have one day, put them in order, then write them in.  Sometimes I don't have receipts, in which case I dummy up a blog post here on Blogger as an online note.  When I am ready to write down the expenses for a month, I bring that up.

I add up all the expenses for the month, then compare that with the amount of cash I pulled out of my ATM.  I subtract the two, write down the difference in my day planner, than explain (to myself) how I reached that amount and if there are any trends or notable events during the month (sporting event, stripper party, fucking a chick) that would explain that amount.  Once I do, I take out the previous month's pages and have enough room to stick in the current month's pages.  I have been procrastinating on doing that for many years now, but I try to do it before the following month begins so as not to be two months behind.

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Mother, for the past couple years or so, has asked me for help in finding stuff online.  She has also been on a retirement- and pandemic-induced cooking spree; she has bought many appliances (in garage sales, she says) that, like, does only one thing, but invariably 1) it either has a part missing or 2) she doesn't know how to use it.  So she enlists my help to find either the info or the part she needs on the WWW.  On the one hand she annoys me, especially when she keeps asking questions.  On the other, well ... I guess a son always wants to impress his mother.

So she bought this goddamn new contraption, but a part was missing.  She didn't know what it was called, but she pointed out that it's a (now playing charades) ... circle!  And it goes around this ... rim!  But there are two of them and she has only one of ... those doohickeys.  Find out what that is, then buy it at Amazon!  No, wait!!  Tell her how much it costs first!!!

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This is coming together.  Bear with me.

I tell her I'll find this part for her, but I want to do my own stuff first, namely going through all my expenses and jotting them down.  When I calculate the numbers, I want to use a ten-keypad.  But I certainly don't have one on my laptop.  Father, however, has a desktop, with a keyboard with a keypad on the right side.  If I don't make it out to a library and use one of their computers, I walk downstairs and just use Father's down in his computer room.

So I booted up Father's computer, opened up the calculator and started inputting numbers.  Meanwhile, Mother gave me the instruction booklet on this contraption she bought because she thought a picture of the missing part was in an illustration.  There was, and I figured out what missing part it was (the part slips my mind).  I did all my calculations and did the month's financial post-mortem, and yes, I have continued to do this even though I now put most of my transactions on credit cards.  I then saw the missing part sold online and rushed up to show Mother how much it cost.

I then retreated to my room, thinking my tasks for the family were now done.  Later, I went out to work out.

But I forgot my day planner in Father's computer room.

I came home.  Father mumbled something from his computer room.  I ask if he's talking to himself like a crazy old man.  He then said I left something of mine down there.  Shit!

I go downstairs and my day planner is open to where I left it: My list of expenses and the lines I wrote about what I spent.  Now, I write in cursive, plus the day planner is small, plus my old man is old and he can't see well, so he couldn't read my writing.  But the numbers, and the headings of "Fast Food" and "Entertainment?"  Yeah, those are large enough for him to read, and he understands those words, and the large amounts underneath them.  Is he asshole enough to bring it up during dinner weeks from now -- "Hey, what did you write down in your book?"  "It looks like you spent more than a hundred dollars on fast food; why would you do that when we feed you at home?"  Fucking bullshit like that.

And all because I wanted to go downstairs and use his computer and then fucking left the stuff I brought down with me.

I can't wait for them to leave.  I've had it.

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