I like eating dinner at 10:45pm.  I love it.  To pieces.  Or not.

Call this one night two of bull shit.  My FIL snagged us again, then when we escaped to go home we had to talk to my dad so he could tell us what food we wanted because there wasn't anything at the house and nobody felt like cooking.  In that span of ten minutes my FIL decides to drive over, parks us into the driveway and we got stuck for the rest of the night.  We were going to take my husband's truck since my car is having issues, so we had just parked in the driveway figuring we'd be leaving again instead of him parking in his usual spot in the yard.  He just wouldn't leave.  Finally my husband says he needed a drink ... and never came back out.  He decided it was too late, he needed to eat and go to bed.  Thanks for being up front with me instead of making me think you were coming back out.  So we finally fed the dog and just pretty well prepared to be in for the night.  Yay for me, at that point it meant no dinner for me.  At that point all I had had for the whole day was that little bit of rice I ate, some popcorn and a couple of graham crackers.

My husband went out to pull his truck up so it wouldn't be blocking both my dad and my car and my FIL got the hint I guess because THEN he left.  Too late for my husband to go.  I decided I didn't want to go to bed without eating so I was going to take my car and go alone.  Then my dad decides he wanted to go so I get the whole 'Wait, wait wait' thing from him.  At this point you probably could have seen the fire coming out of my ears.  I snapped at him 'I should probably go alone, I'm pissed.'  He tells me 'No, wait I want to go.'  Me:  'Fine, fucking hurry the fuck up.'  He of course drug ass.  We finally leave and he won't shut up, rambling because he doesn't want me to be mad at him.

Excuse me?

So that was a fan fucking tastic trip.  Then we get home, and it's twenty minutes til 11.  He makes me sit outside and wait for him to dick around with my car more.  I finally got tired of it and told him I'd bring him back my spare set, I was going in.  I had a full, heavy bag from the store from getting food and his damn beer, a gallon of milk, my purse and I had to dig my keys out of my pocket to unlock the door.  Then he says 'Oh, can you take my McDonald's in too?'  SURE, I don't need help getting inside, I can hold all this shit and unlock the door.  FINE.  He didn't even offer to help.  I was pissy and snappy and tired of holding back.  I flew into that house and sorted shit and went back to the den, started getting my shit out and he follows me back rambling more about not being mad at him.

Fuck you.

That pissed me off when he came back in, so now here I am at 7 minutes to 11.  Still haven't eaten, hunger is slowly going away.  Too pissed and tired.  I swear if he comes back again I'm going to throw him through a fucking window.

I hate my god damn life right now.  It (living in these circumstances, not my life) will come to an end ... just not soon enough.

THEN I find out tonight also that the bonfire we've been planning for MONTHS now for the 4th of July is going to get all jacked up by my BIL inviting a bunch of friends and The Thing is maybe going to invite people too.  It's OUR bonfire.  Nobody else was planning it, my BIL happened to find out about it (not sure how yet, probably my FIL) and is now acting like it's all his.  The Thing just ruins anything he's involved with.  That bonfire was going to be so awesome, plenty of drinking, a good time, a kick back time.  Now it's going to get all fucked over.  Maybe I can still make it good, I'll just throw all these fuck heads in the fire. 

BBQ anybody?