moving home…

05Nov08

Oh god. The time has come. I doesn’t make any sense for me to keep my apartment for the last month I’m here. So I’m about to ask my parents to *gulp* let me move back home. My dad and I haven’t always seen eye to eye. In fact, with the exception of hating bell peppers and brussels sprouts (seriously why are those industries even in place. those farmers should be working on tastier veggies), we pretty much don’t see eye to eye on anything. 

The thought of him watching over everything that I do for the month of December makes me ill. I keep worrying about seemingly small things, but things that mean a lot to my quality of life. Things like happy hour. I know I’m going to have a happy hour after my last day at work. But I can hear his nagging voice in my ear when I get home. “Have you been drinking? How much have you had? You know I don’t approve of this.” I mean there’s a chance that he could be cool. There’s also a chance that I could become a size 2 by eating nothing but In-N-Out. There’s always a chance. 

But my dad has never been the cool parent. I think he takes pride in it. He’s a freakin’ handful, and… Aw jeez. I’m just not certain how this whole December’s going to play out. I will most likely end up in tears.

Stay tuned.

Filed under: communication, moving   |  Leave a Comment
Tags: daughter, father, fighting, moving home, parents