girlofprey (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
girlofprey) wrote2012-04-29 09:12 pm
girlofprey) wrote2012-04-29 09:12 pm
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I hate my dad. I hate my dad. I got my period yesterday and have been having terrible period pains. I mentioned them yesterday, if he'd been listening. It took me awhile to get to sleep last night because I was still getting pains. So I slept in quite a bit today, then spent a while in the bathroom. Finally felt alright enough to come downstairs at about 3pm, to have some water and eat so I could take some Mefenamic Acid. Stood at the sink, still in my dressing gown, hair unbrushed (which is very unusual for me). The first thing my dad says? He was a little suprised to see me at first glance, then said "You're supposed to be making Moussaka at some point" (I cook the ready meals mum leaves when she works on a Sunday). So I said "Yeah, eventually", to mean 'when I feel able to do so'. And he scoffed and said "Huh. 'Eventually'". Then he found my pills where I'd left them on the arm of the chair, because I'd been planning on curling up in it and didn't really want to be carrying them to and fro, and demanded "Are these yours?", grabbing them and bringing them into the kitchen. I got annoyed, because he really did sound angry about it, but he claimed he hadn't said it in an 'angry way', and when I asked why he needed to know at all and why he brought them in, he said "because I'm getting ready to sit down, that's all". Obviously I was taking up space in his precious chair.
Later on, I'd only just had lunch and had been out and got some chocolate, I didn't really feel like eating a big meal yet, I went to check on dinner, and it turned out mum had left two separate ready meals for us. So I told him that I probably wasn't going to feel like eating for a bit, but there were two separate ready meals, so if he wanted I would come down from my room and make his earlier if he wanted. And he said yes. In fairness, I didn't say to him "it's just a ready meal, you can probably make it yourself". But I was kind of hoping he'd get the picture and say that anyway. But he didn't. So I came down, while playing on the computer, three times to make his dinner - once to set the oven to pre-heat and take the film off the packet, once to put it in, and once to get it out and put it on a plate. In the meantime, he took a bath, without asking if that was going to mess up the dinner times or it would end up going cold, I had to ask HIM "what about dinner?". And when he got out, he immediately started asking "Is the oven on yet?" and "So when is it going to be ready?".
At 8 o'clock, Vera was on, and it seemed like one of the few good things that might happen today. But last week my parents didn't watch it right away, so I ended up watching it in our little bedroom. But the little bedroom is almost impossible to sit comfortably in nowadays, especially since my dad put a shelf up on the wall right next to the bed, even knowing that I often played on the Playstation in there, so it's impossible to lean against the wall anymore. But I came downstairs at 8, and no-one was in the living room. Success! Then my dad came in ten minutes later, saw me watching Vera, and said he was saving that for when mum came in so 'they' (?) could watch it together. He picked up the remote and started messing around with channels and recordings - while I was watching it - so I couldn't watch it, so it was on in a little square in the corner, and I certainly couldn't concentrate on it. We switched it over to ITV HD because that's where dad was recording it, so it wouldn't mess with another recording, and then he left again. Then my mum came in at half past eight, and my dad asked me if I "was going to disappear for half an hour now, then?" so they could catch up. He suggested I could make my tea in the meantime - the same tea that still only needed to be put on a baking tray and put in the oven. And maybe he didn't want to turf me out, but if he'd actually said at ten minutes past eight that mum and he would want to watch it at half past, so maybe I should wait...I probably would have done. So now I'm upstairs, on LJ, fuming about him for half an hour instead.
And now he's just called me, "So are you coming down or what?". So I guess I am going back down. I hate my dad a bit.
Later on, I'd only just had lunch and had been out and got some chocolate, I didn't really feel like eating a big meal yet, I went to check on dinner, and it turned out mum had left two separate ready meals for us. So I told him that I probably wasn't going to feel like eating for a bit, but there were two separate ready meals, so if he wanted I would come down from my room and make his earlier if he wanted. And he said yes. In fairness, I didn't say to him "it's just a ready meal, you can probably make it yourself". But I was kind of hoping he'd get the picture and say that anyway. But he didn't. So I came down, while playing on the computer, three times to make his dinner - once to set the oven to pre-heat and take the film off the packet, once to put it in, and once to get it out and put it on a plate. In the meantime, he took a bath, without asking if that was going to mess up the dinner times or it would end up going cold, I had to ask HIM "what about dinner?". And when he got out, he immediately started asking "Is the oven on yet?" and "So when is it going to be ready?".
At 8 o'clock, Vera was on, and it seemed like one of the few good things that might happen today. But last week my parents didn't watch it right away, so I ended up watching it in our little bedroom. But the little bedroom is almost impossible to sit comfortably in nowadays, especially since my dad put a shelf up on the wall right next to the bed, even knowing that I often played on the Playstation in there, so it's impossible to lean against the wall anymore. But I came downstairs at 8, and no-one was in the living room. Success! Then my dad came in ten minutes later, saw me watching Vera, and said he was saving that for when mum came in so 'they' (?) could watch it together. He picked up the remote and started messing around with channels and recordings - while I was watching it - so I couldn't watch it, so it was on in a little square in the corner, and I certainly couldn't concentrate on it. We switched it over to ITV HD because that's where dad was recording it, so it wouldn't mess with another recording, and then he left again. Then my mum came in at half past eight, and my dad asked me if I "was going to disappear for half an hour now, then?" so they could catch up. He suggested I could make my tea in the meantime - the same tea that still only needed to be put on a baking tray and put in the oven. And maybe he didn't want to turf me out, but if he'd actually said at ten minutes past eight that mum and he would want to watch it at half past, so maybe I should wait...I probably would have done. So now I'm upstairs, on LJ, fuming about him for half an hour instead.
And now he's just called me, "So are you coming down or what?". So I guess I am going back down. I hate my dad a bit.
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