It's A Beautiful Day

My nose is running a marathon. It's horrible, I feel like shit and when I feel like shit I don't feel like doing anything. I basically curled up on my bed from 4 to 7, at which point I finally got up and made myself some soup. It's that new Campbell's, and it sucks compared to the old stuff. Being the kid of two working parents, I learned how to make my own dinner: soup. I'm a connoisseur of fine Campbell's condensed and noncondensed soups. Basically, I know it, I love it, and I eat it almost daily. This new soup tastes tamatoey, which completely ruins it.

My nose hurts so bad, I've been sticking Kleenex in it all day. It's raw and horrible and I feel like shit. I got home and I thought my dad was leaving when I pulled up (I did a little cheer in my mind). But, sadly he was just hobbling to get the mail. Last night he got a bit drunk and a bit obnoxious, he did the whole, "You'll be sorry when I'm gone routine." I was having none of it, so I just didn't respond. My mom said yes, I kinda wanted to shake her and ask her why she's still with him. He's a useless asshole and I hate him. He wasn't so bad when I was young, but he left when I was about 5 for 3 years in China. So basically, I didn't develop a really big attachment to him. When he came back he just assumed that he was my dad, which he wasn't. He has never been my dad. Then about 2 years later he started going out a lot again for work, so life went back to usual. And then suddenly he was home constantly. His partner robbed us out of lots and lots of money, and all this financial shit went down. So my mom, my mother who does everything for both us, had to use her hard earned money to pay for my dad. And then he hurt himself when he was working at Home Depot, and he fucked up his back. So now he's here all the time. It drives me nuts. I went from a kid who could count on being left alone (which I liked), to someone who now can't get a minute to herself. Sometimes he says things and does things that make me so angry, that I wish he could just hit me so I could kick the crap out of him. A week ago he threatened to hit me with wooden tray in his hands, and I told him to go ahead. My mom was standing there trying to talk him down. And I was dying for him to actually do it. Because at least if he hits me I can have a physical reason to show why he disgusts me. He disgusts me constantly. He doesn't give a fuck about me besides what people might think of him once they meet me. Sorry, for the rant, I'll shut up now. I've just been mulling it over and mulling over and it's driving me crazy. If I say any of this shit to people I know I just get given that whole, "Well, my parents blah blah blah." And so then I feel like I'm being a dumbass for hating him. Anyway, that's my story. I just wanted to say it once and for all. I hate to see that man in my mother's house on my mother's couch and eating my mother's food. He doesn't have that right.

Now, I'd like to sing you a song, "It's a beautiful, what a beautiful, it's a beautiful, beautiful day."