...and of course living with my Dad has a different set of issues. He thinks internships and such are useless and I should screw all my plans and desires so that I can take a dead-end job because "we all have to contribute to the family". Puh-leeze. He makes me look undramatic. And that takes a LOT. If things were so bad, he'd cut back on his overpriced Kamut pancake flour and truffle oil. Of course, I'd cut back on my...wait for it...zucchini? Exactly.
Um, I don't eat much, I don't shop anymore, and outside of these surgeries which he has called "medically necessary", that's it. Medical and food. I don't actually cost THAT much per month. (When you take out the surgical costs).
I do, however, plan on getting a job teaching in September that will enable me to clothe my new self, and aide in family finances.
And whilst doing that, I'll take some courses.
I think that sounds reasonable, yes?
In the meantime, I'm getting my nose done. Yay for insurance coverage (I think).
On my way to my Mom's and Mommom's for the first time since what I am now calling the "6-Day Hydrocodone War". I'm worried and nervous.
Oh, and my Dad's a SLOB. Like, seriously. I'm hoping my Mom will stop at Costco with me before we drive me home so that I can hardcore Clorox wipes, a Swiffer set, and maybe some yummy food in individual packages. I love individual packages.
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Seriously, screw you and your "insurance". Or not screw you. You're hired to be my "lawyer" and insurance negotiator. Whenever those divine days near.
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