My usually twenty-minute commute was over an hour last night. I was not in a good mood when I got home.
The first thing I said when I walked in the door was, "Why are these magazines and remotes always on my side of the couch? Why do we even have a coffee table? Why can't I come home and SIT ON THE FUCKING COUCH without moving all of your shit first? Open the window, I'm throwing the coffee table out the fucking window since we don't use it anyway."
On the down side, I'm turning into my dad. On the plus side, I'm finally starting to understand my dad.
|