Did I Say Day 2 Or 3? Maybe I Meant Day 6

Goddamn.  My Fucking Mother's anxieties and quick-triggered temper and My Fucking Father's passive-aggressiveness and sing-songy double-speak converged on this day (well, Tuesday ... the days blur when you're in paradise) to really, really piss me off.  I am getting ever closer to throwing a drink in their faces the next time they ask me something triggering, like when I am going to get a girlfriend, or when I am going back to school, or why am I so fat.

I can't be with this family -- or anybody, really -- for this long.  I have another goddamn week with these people.  A week!  And I don't care if I'm in paradise right now, or that the place where I live is going to get hit with a blizzard followed up with high winds and dangerously cold weather.  I'm kind of in my own hell right now, and there won't be freedom for another fucking week.  Goddammit!