I'm tiiiiiiiiiired.

I've got a killer headache and my eyes are burnin', but I just couldn't go to bed without getting my fix.  I know I'll feel much better once I've climbed in bed and stretched out.  Sitting in this darned chair for too long is what really gets my back and headaches going.

I would have liked for this to have been a drunk blog, because let's face it, that would've been so much more fun.  It's not though, I'm not even buzzed anymore.  I had 3 beers, and I may as well not even have had them for all the effect they had.  It probably didn't help that my dad did something shitty (disrespectful to my friend, which was therefore disrespectful to me) right as we were gonna start drinking, and it put a somber mood on the night.

I can say that it didn't ruin the night, and it will not, but it did put a little bit of a buzz kill on for all the enthusiasm we started with.  If my dad thinks for one minute that he can manipulate my friends just because it's amusing for him, well then he's dead wrong.  Which is why I couldn't let the situation drop, I did have to go talk to him about it.  This wasn't one of those 'just let it go' things, it wasn't OK.  I can't really go into the details of it, but rest assured, I did not go at him angrily, nor did I go into a discussion of this sort just because I felt like it.  He screwed up major and had to be told as much.

He can not expect my friends to respect a decision of his to partake in specific activities and then reciprocate with disrespect to them in relation to the very same activity, that they have chosen NOT to partake in.  They don't bother him, they stay away, and yet he seems to think it's OK to 'test' people by putting it right in their face.  It's not OK, and it never will be.  But it does make me wish all that much harder that it was the middle of next year already, and that we could be planning to pack and move within a week.

Honestly, if I knew I could get by with it, I'd go put a pillow over his face and smother him to his death right now.  I can't do that though, and I know it would wreck my conscience anyway.  He doesn't get to do that, but my how nice it is to envision his early demise.  This is totally off track, but I just simply don't get how someone can abuse their body like he does (smoking, drinking, NOT attending to his high blood pressure beyond taking daily medication {read: no diet changes AT ALL}, very little exercise, etc.) and they just keep on living to make others' lives miserable ... but so many good people lose their lives every day.  It's just not fair.  That bastard is taking so much for granted.

All right, I've got to stop there because while I could go on a whole diatribe about that, I'm growing increasingly frustrated because I can actually hear that mother fucker breathing ... loudly ... because he's drunkenly passed out and his mouth is probably open.  I've closed the door to the den, but just those few minutes that I could hear it were enough to piss me off to no end.  I don't know why those sorts of things bother me so much sometimes, but they do.  it takes me to an irrational pissed off place, where I want to do really mean, horrible things just to make it quit, but that I would never actually do.

I'm not mad, I'm not letting him get to me that way, but dammit, it's just frustrating after a while, that's all.  If nothing else, look at this as me getting some of this shit off my chest because simply letting it drop and going to bed would not have sufficed.  Yeah, speaking of bed, it's sounding pretty darned good.  Off I go ... besides, I've got a really good book I'm close to finishing ... woo hoo!