The days are running together, as they do when one finds oneself unemployed. We spend each night eating dinner watching Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy, shouting profanity-laced epithets at Pat Sajak and Alex Trebek and their "smug dickishness". Well, mostly my dad does this, I sort of participate. My mom either giggles or rolls her eyes depending on what is said. My father is particularly unpleasant towards Alex Trebek. One night, as Jeopardy went to a commercial break, Alex said “Okay, relax and we’ll be back in a minute”. My father’s response? “FUCK YOU ALEX! I’LL RELAX WHEN I WANT!”
Today rolls around, and since I don’t have much concrete evidence that it is in fact Saturday, I sit down to dinner and grow concerned as the television is not switched to ABC. “Laura, it’s Saturday” my parents tell me, with a tone that says “We just had the ‘what day is it’ discussion a few hours ago, dummy”.
I am disappointed. I am actually disappointed about not being able to eat my dinner and watch my game shows. But then, huzzah! A rerun of Jeopardy is miraculously on TV.
All is right with the world. And that's when I took a step back and realized, um, wow. I need to GET. OUT.
I’ll be leaving this state before I’m in too deep, don’t fret. We’re leaving on Tuesday to come back home. I’m not waiting around for news on the FloridaJob. I’ve already missed one life-event of a friend because I waited around for a job I didn’t get, and I still feel like shit for it. I’ve got Meredith’s baby shower to attend in Ohio next weekend and I’m not going to pull any more douche moves. Also the interview was quite possibly the most disastrous thing I have ever been a part of. It’s not something I want to put on the internet for a while, but…yikes.
Honest to blog, the more I am around my father, the more I am convinced I should start a separate web site about the things my father does that simultaneously astound me, entertain me and irritate the everloving crap out of me. As I write this, my dad has switched to some golf game and was shouting nonsensicals as the golfers were taking their swing, like he was psyching them out or startling them from their focus…on television. People have blogs about the silly things their kids say and do, why can’t I have one about the sometimes-man-child, irrational but hilarious man that is my father?