Sep 15, 2007 13:48
So, yesterday, my Dad called me. Most people don't understand how things work out between myself and my parents, or at least one person does (Maybe two, as her memory for random details involving me are spot on usually), there's a lot of different degrees of indifference and distance, depending on the parental figure.
Anyway, I was telling him that I'd like to go back to school sometimes, in the extreme near future, and he said that despite agreeing with my obvious choice of what I want to pursuse, that I should look into writing as well. I can honestly say that my Dad is the only one to ever bring it up, as others fear instablity that comes with the terroritary, but it's always the subject that comes up when we talk about that sort of thing.
It's even more amusing that after we're done talking, Kaji thought I was merely talking to a friend, to which I replied, "Nope, that's just my Dad."
With irrevelant subjects in mind now, I feel kind of trapped and self contained, it's just one of those things that will be resolved by myself, as the standard goes with big rocks being laid out in front of one's self.
I start work on Monday, 12 until 8pm, at the Tinsel Town mall.