I snuck a container of mint chocolate creams past my dad at the cash register when we went to Trader Joe's today, and of course now my stomach decides to be all upset (before eating them, bah). Hopefully it'll settle down so I can enjoy my treat.

I'm beginning to think I did actually catch some sort of bug and that it's not all in my head (maybe it's an opportunist, feeding off my stress level) because I think my dad's got it now. And there's no reason why he'd catch stress from me, so... apparently I'm just sick. I don't know whether to be relieved about that or not.

And since I have very little else to say, a meme, stolen from maybe_someday8: write 10 things you would never say to the person or people you mean them for. they can be positive, negative or simply a paranoia you have that is related toward them directly.

( Some of these may be more obvious than others. Not everyone on here reads this LJ, even. )

EDIT: Ahhhh, Doctor, stop making me CRY. :(((

Well, it was a good day. I went for a walk with Milo and got sunburned, but the rest of me felt awesome when I'd finished, and I got my blood work done. I had lunch with my dad, which was nice, but when we tried to make dinner together, it was a disaster.

The problem, basically, is that my dad represents everything in a person that I never, ever want to become (and that I'm afraid I will become anyway). He's overweight, lazy, barely able to function by himself -- which was the whole reason why we started arguing -- and his marriage is... well, not bad exactly, but it seems like my mom is unhappy and disappointed all the time. Every single time I come home I see him deteriorating even more.

Of course, it blew up over something really stupid: making dinner. I had just showered recently from walking Milo when he asked me to come and help, which was fine, but I didn't want to go to the store because I'd put on pyjamas and done laundry after showering. It wasn't that big a deal, but when I asked him if he could go to the store and get the things we needed, specifying that it was because I was in tired, lazy clothes, he blew up at me.

So I said fuck it, and changed and went to the store on my own, because he was obviously in a bad mood -- but I couldn't help leaving him a little note that said I went. LEARN TO DO SOMETHING ON YOUR OWN FOR ONCE. Which, you know, was a little spiteful, but I felt entirely justified (I haven't been pulling as much weight as I could around the house, BUT NEITHER IS HE, and I'm the one that's actually home to recuperate). But I came home to him yelling "YOUR NOTE SUCKS, YOU LAZY ASS" (yes, he literally said "your note sucks") and telling me to fuck off and he would make dinner himself.

I guess I accomplished something, anyway. Getting angry at the people who think you're a failure is an awfully good motivator, I find.

And it's nice to know that getting insulted by people I don't respect still doesn't affect me. (For the record, I do love my dad. I just don't respect him anymore. :|)


ETA: also, I forgot to point my new friends to my All About Me post! Want to know who you really friended? Take a look. ;)