A Day in the Life
Went to my father's last night... delectable food as always and then a limp game of Scatagories. After their bedtime I amused myself with a performance documentary of Sigur Ros which was quite fantastic and then Enchanted which was surprisingly enjoyable while utterly predictable. Then I slept on the couch (air conditioning is a priviledge limited to the living room and my parents bedroom) until my dad woke up to go to work and then I stumbled upstairs and slept in the spare room which, though uncooled, was still less stuffy than my own room. I slept until 11:30 and then did a whole lot of nothing. I'm feeling really antsy without any other people here... tried to do art but there is nothing to do it of! Called my mother around 4 to request a pickup and got a "Well... we'll fit it into David's schedule", learned that there shall be no beach house at all, and listened as mother tried to convince me that although her kidneys are functioning at 6% percent (fyi, 60% = bad, 6% = WTF?) she feels FINE and will be fine for another two weeks while she goes away and will "deal with it when she comes home".
Dealing with it would be like... dialysis.
But she's all "I'm fine. I just can't do anything and am only awake for minutes at a time! But I'm not going to like... have a heart attack!"
Oh. That's just great then. Okay.
Whatever...
I'm not pissed at her of course really. It's not her fault. And she should be allowed to talk about what she's going through and shit. I just hate hearing it. I hate hearing how fucking sick she is. I don't like thinking about it.
The other day she told me "I'm not afraid of cancer. I mean, cancer is easy: you either die or you don't! It's kidney disease that will torture you!"
I mean.
I don't know.
I just don't want to hear it.
So it makes me mad at her, even though I'm not mad at her, I'm not mad at her at all.
Okay moping time = over.
But I'm bored and lonely here!
And I have to "work on my room"
Fucking working on my room is keeping me from being productive this summer... its a scourge on my life! Grahh!!! (melodramatic mood!)
Dealing with it would be like... dialysis.
But she's all "I'm fine. I just can't do anything and am only awake for minutes at a time! But I'm not going to like... have a heart attack!"
Oh. That's just great then. Okay.
Whatever...
I'm not pissed at her of course really. It's not her fault. And she should be allowed to talk about what she's going through and shit. I just hate hearing it. I hate hearing how fucking sick she is. I don't like thinking about it.
The other day she told me "I'm not afraid of cancer. I mean, cancer is easy: you either die or you don't! It's kidney disease that will torture you!"
I mean.
I don't know.
I just don't want to hear it.
So it makes me mad at her, even though I'm not mad at her, I'm not mad at her at all.
Okay moping time = over.
But I'm bored and lonely here!
And I have to "work on my room"
Fucking working on my room is keeping me from being productive this summer... its a scourge on my life! Grahh!!! (melodramatic mood!)