I hate to even think of the amount of stuff that I have to pack in the next day. I swear that my stuff has doubled itself since I got here. I know that I have a lot more books and clothes, and I can�t even think of all the little things that I have to find. I know that I�m going to forget something.
Tonight is the night of K, the Sorceress�, brother�s post-New Year�s party. I�m not up, really, to the partying part since I feel so darn zonked out. I think that I�ve been sleeping too much, and I really need to break out of the habit of sleeping in til noon.
Oh, I don�t even like thinking of all the rooms in this house that my things could be hiding�.
I went over to my dad�s to hang out with him before I leave tomorrow. Since he had spent that week in Florida and I was working, we didn�t get to spend that much time together.
I think it was the biggest waste of time all week.
He called me around 2 pm, when I was actually quite close to leaving to tell me that he wasn�t going to be home for a couple of hours. That was fine by me, since I needed to clean myself up a bit and I was damn exhausted. I head over there around 4:30 and he calls again to tell me that he�s not feeling well.
He says nothing more than that though.
Was he trying to tell me something? I�m not quite sure. The way my father works is that he likes to hint at things so he doesn�t have to take the blame. For example, by telling me that he wasn�t feeling well, he might have been hinting at that he didn�t want me to come over, but didn�t want to be blamed for telling me not to.
I drove over there and his girlfriend was there. We chitchatted for awhile, until she left to go return a movie and get salt for his very dangerous driveway. He came back in the interval between when she left and returned. During that time, he barely spoke to me, unless he was whining about being sick. I asked if there was anything that I could do and he told me no. Well, then he started putting away things and basically acting like I wasn�t there, unless to make me repeat what I was saying.
So, again, I sat there. His girlfriend came back and suddenly, he�s in this wonderfully chatty mood so that I couldn�t even watch the show that I was trying to watch to keep myself entertained while he ignored me. They were talking and laughing and having a grand old time. I promptly gathered up my things and put my shoes on.
�What�s wrong?�
�I don�t see why I even came. You�re not even talking to me.�
I have to give his girlfriend credit because she suggested that I stay and play a game or something. My father, on the other hand, said nothing.
Obviously, he didn�t want me to stay.
Now, I am not going to be blamed for never spending time with my father. He chose to go to Florida over this break. He chose to not invite me out during any of the other days. He chose not to call me very much to see if I was available. He chose never to really visit me up at school. I made an [granted, a very small] effort these past couple weeks, but he�ll have nothing to do with it. Sometimes, Dad, the girlfriend has to stay home.
To go to the party or not to go�.that is the question.
