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I love you, Pepsi.
Dec. 6th, 2005 02:56 amI got home about 40 minutes ago, at 2:20, from Best Buy. And I noticed that my dad's car was not in the driveway. My dad's car has been in the driveway every night for as long as I remember. I wonder where his car is. He sleeps on the couch every night because I guess that's what he and my mom feel comfortable with. Except for he's not on the couch right now. That means he can be in bed with my mom doing anal and his car is in the shop OR he's out driving in his car somewhere, hopefully not far, it's snowing.
I salted the steps so that maybe they won't be icy tomorrow. Then I looked for a clue as to where my dad and his car might be. I checked the calender in the kitchen in which my parents schedule their goings on. On December 5, my dad wrote "Dentist 3:30." He didn't qualify 3:30 with an AM or PM. So maybe he's out getting a cavity filled at 3:30am.
There's a third possibility too: my parents, the pair of them, took off in my dad's car in search of a less disappointing son. See, because after I checked the calendar, I opened the fridge and it looked as if my mom stocked it with food so that I won't go hungry in her absence. Also, there is a jar of peanut butter on the counter. There hasn't been peanut butter in this house in years.
I'm not sure about my family sometimes. I don't see my parents very often because of school and work and I've been speaking with my sister less and less frequently. It doesn't feel so much a family as it does a close network of acquaintances.
I came home last night at around 8pm, my dad was setting up the Christmas tree. When I saw him in the window, half way from my car to the front door, I decided against entering my house, and opted to do something besides entering my house. I didn't want to go in for two reasons: a) since I usually get home late, I figured they'd want it to be a miracle of Christmas for me, and b) I was scared that my dad would want me to help him decorate it, a task I was simply too stoned to do. So I got back in my car and drove around calling people who didn't answer their phones. And after an hour of nothing to do and no one to do it with, I went home. My parents were in their usually spots, my dad on the couch and my mom at the dining table where she does her things. I thought, for their sake, I ought to pretend to be mildly excited by the Christmas tree. I think I said, "hey look at that." My dad asked, "how does it look out there?" And I answered, "it looks like a tree." He meant, of course, how it looked weathwise, and we all laughed. I was still high.
Maybe my dad drove his car off Clayton Ravine.
I salted the steps so that maybe they won't be icy tomorrow. Then I looked for a clue as to where my dad and his car might be. I checked the calender in the kitchen in which my parents schedule their goings on. On December 5, my dad wrote "Dentist 3:30." He didn't qualify 3:30 with an AM or PM. So maybe he's out getting a cavity filled at 3:30am.
There's a third possibility too: my parents, the pair of them, took off in my dad's car in search of a less disappointing son. See, because after I checked the calendar, I opened the fridge and it looked as if my mom stocked it with food so that I won't go hungry in her absence. Also, there is a jar of peanut butter on the counter. There hasn't been peanut butter in this house in years.
I'm not sure about my family sometimes. I don't see my parents very often because of school and work and I've been speaking with my sister less and less frequently. It doesn't feel so much a family as it does a close network of acquaintances.
I came home last night at around 8pm, my dad was setting up the Christmas tree. When I saw him in the window, half way from my car to the front door, I decided against entering my house, and opted to do something besides entering my house. I didn't want to go in for two reasons: a) since I usually get home late, I figured they'd want it to be a miracle of Christmas for me, and b) I was scared that my dad would want me to help him decorate it, a task I was simply too stoned to do. So I got back in my car and drove around calling people who didn't answer their phones. And after an hour of nothing to do and no one to do it with, I went home. My parents were in their usually spots, my dad on the couch and my mom at the dining table where she does her things. I thought, for their sake, I ought to pretend to be mildly excited by the Christmas tree. I think I said, "hey look at that." My dad asked, "how does it look out there?" And I answered, "it looks like a tree." He meant, of course, how it looked weathwise, and we all laughed. I was still high.
Maybe my dad drove his car off Clayton Ravine.
