[Thursday, Sept. 29, 2005 @ 8:50 a.m.]
[ "Who's That Knocking On My Door?" ~ Rod Stewart ]

On tuesday, I had to start work at 7:30am, so I had to leave my place early for the bus. It was dark, my mom had gone to work already and my dad was on the couch. Every morning, my dad thrusts his neuroses on me, demanding my attention, asking me questions asked thousands of times. As I was about to leave, he tells me he's worried that someone will attack me. I'm out the door, I close it behind me, but dad opens it, so he can watch that nothing happens to me. I turn the corner and I assume he's gone back into the house. I didn't check to see if he was still there though.

This morning, I awoke around 6am, so I went onto the computer. My mom got ready for work then a moment after she left, dad comes into the computer room to peer out the back window, watching my mom. "Whatcha looking for?" I ask. "You're mom is backing out the driveway and sometimes crazy drivers speed down the back alley and crash into people". This is what my dad is watching out for.

Paranoid much?

I don't know if it's old age or if this is a trait in him that's gotten worse and I just haven't been paying attention.
Last week Monday, I came home after midnight after hanging out with some friends. The next day, while on the computer, dad comes in with his arms crossed, interrogating me about how I got home so late and what kind of friends I associate with that would drive me home, and whether they're men or women.

I don't need to remind him of my age. As absent-minded as he is, he clearly remembers it whenever he's trying to make a point, then he uses it against me. Other times, he forgets my name or what year it is, seriously.
Selective memory is so convenient, eh?


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