Oh, dear... yesterday didn't go very well at all, did it? No-sir-ee, Bob. It did not. I had just finished cleaning the entire house, and I was very proud of myself, for the house seemed to sparkle merrily. The house was very happy that I'd cleaned it. I decided I'd earned a reward for cleaning the house so well, so I turned on the computer, ready to sit down and read a nice, mushy Harry Potter fan fic. Just as I typed in "fanfiction.net", my dad asked if I'd been studying for my distance learning psychology test. I hadn't, so he said I'd better get started on it.
So, I hauled my heavy, yet lovely pink backpack out to the family room, ready to study for the test that would take place on October 3rd... or so I thought. At this time, Dad informed me that I'd gotten something in the mail from Mott's distance learning office, reminding me of my test during... the week of September 23rd, which was last week! I don't know what my dad's problem is, but he seems to enjoy opening my mail, and Zach's too. That's frickin' illegal! I should sue. And I felt like suing him when he immediately started freaking out, yelling at me so loud, I'm sure our neighboring countries heard. He began throwing random pillows, all the while screaming his head off about what an irresponsible, lazy kid I am.
Apparently, yelling at me about my psychology test wasn't enough, so he demanded that I show him the syllabus for my distance-learning sociology class. I thought my test for that class was going to be on October 3rd too... but, according to my syllabus, the last possible day to take the test is October 2nd. Dad then went on another rampage. This time, for some unknown reason, he decided to pick up all my school folders & papers, and threw them accross the room. While he was throwing all my stuff, he lectured me on how disorganized I am. I said, "Um... I know I'm disorganized, but how will you throwing my stuff around help me get more organized?" Apparently, this was the worse thing I could have said at that moment. He yelled, "You always have time to play! Play, play, play, that's all you and Zach ever do! You never do any work, and you'll never amount to more than a McDonald's employee!"
As I gathered up all my school stuff, Dad screamed, "I don't want you going to any parties or anything for the entire month of October! You stay home and study!" I was like, "Dad, when do I ever go to parties? I'm always home." He raged, "Don't change the subject! I don't want you going on the computer for the month of October either!" He ended his ridiculously loud, angry lecture by saying, "Get out of my sight, it makes me madder than heck just to look at you right now." Nice. Real nice.
I know I'm disorganized, and I really need to work on that. What I don't get is, why does my dad always yell at Zach and I when we do something wrong? Why can't he just stay calm and give us some advice about how we can better whatever sticky situation we find ourselves in? Ugh. Yelling at us doesn't make us want to get to work. If anything, it makes me want to do the opposite of whatever Dad says. I think my dad is the one who needs to study psychology because, obviously, he's got some definite problems in that area.
Well... *yawns* I stayed up too late studying, so I'm going to take a nap now. Oh yes, as you can see, I'm using the computer while Dad's at work. *Rolls eyes* People think they can keep me from my internet. *Pets monitor*
--Holly Rachael >:-0
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