You are aware that I leave in a mere 4 days. FOUR DAYS!! Why is it that the week before your vacation is always the most insane? Is it so you appreciate it more? Because I'm already poised to run at full speed out of my job, knocking over women and children if necessary at 10 a.m. Wednesday morning-- wait, I get off the air at 9:57:40-- so at that time, WATCH OUT!!!! Is that wrong?
Because if it is I don't care. I'm so over this current phase in my life. Interpret that at will. My father is irritating me because he wants to talk to me all the time. I know that sounds wrong but the second I walk in the house I don't want to be bothered. Especially on Saturday and Sunday... of course the days he doesn't have to work and is itching to bother me, talk to me, mess with my hair, tickle my feet (aren't I a bit old for that?). If we were on a playground he would throw dirt in my face.
My sister and I always looked at my dad like a giant toy. That's partly because he was on the road a lot when we were growing up and when he was home it was a treat. He would let us braid his low cut hair while he pretended to be asleep and probably sometimes actually fell asleep. When my mom went out of town and it was the three of us, he would cook (which he can do well) or my favorite time, we had McD's three times a day. Lolol. My mom never let us eat fast food. It was like once a month with her... if that.
Now remember my Saturdays and Sundays. Saturday-- work 11 hours, come home, collapse, rinse, lather, repeat. Sunday-- leave at 11 p.m. (Saturday night), work 10 hours, breakfast, church, get home at 2 p.m. Sunday afternoon, blog (addict), talk on the phone a bit, read for 20 seconds or so, knocked out by 3:45 p.m. That means I need some moments of the day where no one is talking to me or requesting my attention for anything other than... nothing. I DON'T WANT TO PLAY, TOY!!
Bah. "Misssssss Jameil," he says to me. "Yes, father." "Nothing, I just like saying your name. You're one of my favorite people on the planet." I guess I should scrap this post, appreciate that he loves me and go home and enjoy my mother on Wednesday. Love does not mean blind to his flaws but accepting them and moving on. I still love you father. Witcho crazy (driving me crazy) self.