Fuck me, I’m not pulling it off.

I’ve tapped out for the night at 9 pm, saying I’m tired and want to be sure I can get up early for Christmas morning. It’s just so exhausting being at my parents’ house. They are so loud – they slam cupboard doors instead of closing them, yell at each other instead of speaking, run the garbage disposal (garbaurator? Whatever those are called) and dishwasher while watching TV and then turn the TV up to compensate, and let’s not forget nag endlessly. I’m drinking a Coke that’s NOT DIET?  I know that’s not “good for me”, right?  

I pulled out a nail file because I had a raggedy cuticle, and got a whole speech about “I hope you’re not going to file your nails right there on the couch! You’ll get white powder everywhere! You should be doing it over something! And the new floors!”  No, Jesus, I wasn’t going to file my nails, I was going to file one raggedy cuticle, but if it is a world issue then I’ll leave it.  The problem is, what can I do that won’t invite critical comment? Not drink a Coke or file my cuticles, or watch “National Lampoon Vacation” on TV… “This looks like a VULGAR movie,” my mom said, and that is when I bailed.  I wish I could just rent a car and drive back right now, but of course that would cause more drama than is worthwhile. I can only think that I’ve gotten through one of three days, I’m 1/3 of the way there, and remember to take my Dexedrine tomorrow.


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