*contented sigh*
ANYWHOO, as I was saying...a new place on my own would be great. I think it might be next fall before that happens (lot's of plans...lot's going on, lot's of previous commitments you know the drill). But I can't wait. There are so many reasons it's not even funny, first being because I'm a twenty-something (A YOUNG one) and haven't lived outside of my parent's house even once. Second, well...a conversation from my dad might help.
I guess to really get the gist of it you've got to understand that I live with my dad on a ranch 30 minutes from the nearest town (and an hour and a half from my school ugggh). I "work" for him, which really means I'm at his constant disposal. I've got to admit for the most part my job is easy. I drive him to town, pick up my sisters...occasionally feed horses, babysit, and clean the house. It really is easy, and I hate that I'm writing this blog bitching about it. BUT I AM. Because I damn well can. And possibly because I feel justified in doing so by this:
I'm sitting on the couch with my sister helping her do math homework when I mention I have homework to do myself and me and my sister joke around about swapping. She's ten, I'd kill for my homework to be THAT easy. We had gone riding on Saturday and me (being an idiot I admit) thought I could just ride in my dad's GIANT saddle, knowing the stirrups to be far far far too long for my short frame. Anyway, I did it, and I did it well I've gotta admit. Cantering (for those of you not horse-savvy that means "jogging" in horse style...basically) wildly around the paddock with my thighs glued to the horse like the BEAST thighs that they are (psych). So, I've been walking with a serious limp just about everywhere and people keep asking why. I say "I was riding bareback (oh ya added emphasis on the whole no stirrup thing...I went from saddle to bareback...to make it sound as difficult as it was) for an hour and a half (another blatant lie, it couldn't have been more than twenty minutes but I don't want to sound like a total loser ok?) at a canter and now I'm just really sore."
I can't even begin to describe how sore I am. I wake up at night hurting, I didn't know being this sore was possible.
I must''ve been using damn near every muscle in my body to keep from falling off. However, I have NOT been limping in front of the father. Why? Because that would be showing how weak I am. Anyway back to the main point.
Dad: "Oh, ya sooo the dishes are starting to really stink....is that something you think you could ya know...DO tonight? Would that be possible?" I know this sounds nice. But use a REALLY condescending tone and you'll understand how I responded...
Me: "Ya, UH think YOU could help out?"
Dad: "I'm not getting paid." ooooh slap me in the face why don'tcha pa. You're right. You're NOT getting paid, and consequently neither am I. Ok, ok. You JUST paid me from three weeks ago and everything else you owe. Ya, I still had to scrape by for a bit.
Me: "Dad, you haven't done a single dish the entire time I've been here. You preach to Mason about how she should 'just help out because she's family and if she uses a dish she shouldn't mind washing them, it's the right thing to do.'" Ya, it's true...he said that to my sister. and he hasn't done ANY himself. Doesn't he know children follow their parent's actions NOT their words? Duh. So I explained (embarrassed...VERY) how sore I was and how it hurt just to stand. Pretty sure he thought I was just making up some BS which, to be fair, isn't something I wouldn't do or anything. But still.
So, I did the dishes. and I did them by myself. and I'll just be damn happy when I get that 250 on friday.
and he better damn well pay me for it.
So, cheers to fall...and living on my own. :)
