As I lay in the tub, I realised that the house was quiet. I thought my dad had left, but he just fell asleep on the couch. We hadn't exchanged words all day since yesterday afternoon. I went to rake up some debris and grass from when he pulled out some dandy lions, and when he saw me coming out of the house with a mere grocery bag to collect them with, he told me to use the garden bags. The bag I chose was the perfect size, and we'll forever have Wal-Mart bags coming out the wazoo, so I proceded. No, he has to say, "Why don't you listen to people?", like he's expecting a rational answer to an irrational question. So, I gave him a look and just filled the bag, and he hasn't talked to me since. Sheesh, I'm sorry that I'm not obedient enough for him. Everytime I want to do something, he always tells me how do do it just because he thinks he should. It's frustrating when you have to live under your parent's roof after being away so long, and then getting use to other's rules. I loved living alone, I miss living alone, despite having financial problems. I use to have roommates, but the more I stayed with them, the more I realised that I need to live alone. However much I've felt lonely, I don't desire living with someone anytime soon. I'd really have to put up with the other's living styles and habits because love isn't all you need in the real world.

I'm so use to being single, I don't know how I'll adjust to being coupled up with someone, so that if I do find a fleck of poo floating around in the tub, it'll be the subject of an arguement or something stupid like that.