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keep on calling me names, keep on keep on
I keep waiting for my father to grow up. I should have read the memo that said it's never gonna happen.
Thursday afternoon he had called and asked that I think of something I'd like to do this weekend. All three days were wide open, he told me. Last night at eight I called to suggest some things for today, only to have him tell me he'd made other plans for the weekend and would be in the Adirondacks until Monday.
Fine.
He's also driving me to school Tuesday and helping me move in, because my mother did it in May and last September. My mother does it without complaint, but he whines and bitches about the prospect at every opportunity. He had insisted on a plan which involved him driving his van here on Monday and taking my car back to Oswego with him, so that I could get all my stuff in the van and when he arrived Tuesday morning in my car, everything would be ready to go.
Whatever. I didn't see how all that extra driving made much sense, but if he was that put out by the idea of helping load up the van, fine.
When my mother heard of this plan, she pointed out that she's no longer on his insurance, and my car is under his insurance. My car needs to go to Oswego for the rest of the year because there just isn't room for it here if it's not being used, especially in winter. My mother wasn't going to drive my car up to Oswego, uninsured, and with no one really available to drive her back. It made more sense for the two of us to bring my car to Oswego this weekend and for my father to just bring the van to be loaded Tuesday morning - a task that will take all of twenty minutes, I might point out.
She called him three days ago and explained this, and he apparently agreed. Until I called last night and, spoiling for a fight, he started going on about how he didn't appreciate having his plans changed by her. He wasn't going to be going to the trouble of taking the time and energy to load the van Tuesday morning when he already had to drive all the way to Northampton and back and help me unload.
He spent twenty minutes repeating this same nonsensical argument to me, ignored me when I pointed out that he was actually doing less work by not having to drive all the way here and back on Monday, and that I wasn't the one making either decision anyway, that I could have all my stuff in the garage and ready to be loaded as soon as he got here Tuesday morning, that in the last three years it has not taken long at all to load the van, etc. He then asked to speak to my mother, and pretty much the same thing went on with the two of them until he made the insinuation that she was just trying to be difficult because she hasn't "gotten over him," at which point she hung up.
Actually, it's about his need to control everything, and the fact that I live with my mother rather than with him. Never mind that my mother lives three and a half miles from my job and he lives close to an hour away. Logic is not a word that exists in his vocabulary.
I am sick of unreasonable people who refuse to see that they're being unreasonable. We're all unreasonable at times and I accept that. But then there're the people you just can't argue with, because they follow their own personal code of logic and can't be made to see things in any other way than the one they've chosen. I'm sick of it. I quit.
In other news, yesterday was my last day of work. I calculated that I worked 390 hours this summer. Praxis gives me $2000. So much for minimum wage. Ha.
Thursday afternoon he had called and asked that I think of something I'd like to do this weekend. All three days were wide open, he told me. Last night at eight I called to suggest some things for today, only to have him tell me he'd made other plans for the weekend and would be in the Adirondacks until Monday.
Fine.
He's also driving me to school Tuesday and helping me move in, because my mother did it in May and last September. My mother does it without complaint, but he whines and bitches about the prospect at every opportunity. He had insisted on a plan which involved him driving his van here on Monday and taking my car back to Oswego with him, so that I could get all my stuff in the van and when he arrived Tuesday morning in my car, everything would be ready to go.
Whatever. I didn't see how all that extra driving made much sense, but if he was that put out by the idea of helping load up the van, fine.
When my mother heard of this plan, she pointed out that she's no longer on his insurance, and my car is under his insurance. My car needs to go to Oswego for the rest of the year because there just isn't room for it here if it's not being used, especially in winter. My mother wasn't going to drive my car up to Oswego, uninsured, and with no one really available to drive her back. It made more sense for the two of us to bring my car to Oswego this weekend and for my father to just bring the van to be loaded Tuesday morning - a task that will take all of twenty minutes, I might point out.
She called him three days ago and explained this, and he apparently agreed. Until I called last night and, spoiling for a fight, he started going on about how he didn't appreciate having his plans changed by her. He wasn't going to be going to the trouble of taking the time and energy to load the van Tuesday morning when he already had to drive all the way to Northampton and back and help me unload.
He spent twenty minutes repeating this same nonsensical argument to me, ignored me when I pointed out that he was actually doing less work by not having to drive all the way here and back on Monday, and that I wasn't the one making either decision anyway, that I could have all my stuff in the garage and ready to be loaded as soon as he got here Tuesday morning, that in the last three years it has not taken long at all to load the van, etc. He then asked to speak to my mother, and pretty much the same thing went on with the two of them until he made the insinuation that she was just trying to be difficult because she hasn't "gotten over him," at which point she hung up.
Actually, it's about his need to control everything, and the fact that I live with my mother rather than with him. Never mind that my mother lives three and a half miles from my job and he lives close to an hour away. Logic is not a word that exists in his vocabulary.
I am sick of unreasonable people who refuse to see that they're being unreasonable. We're all unreasonable at times and I accept that. But then there're the people you just can't argue with, because they follow their own personal code of logic and can't be made to see things in any other way than the one they've chosen. I'm sick of it. I quit.
In other news, yesterday was my last day of work. I calculated that I worked 390 hours this summer. Praxis gives me $2000. So much for minimum wage. Ha.