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Sep. 25th, 2012

You can't even give me this?


Sometimes, not often, but occasionally, I really regret choosing to transfer from my first university and move back in with my parents. Today is one of those days.

Most of you know that pretty much every day, I do three things: go to work, go to class, and get on the Internet. Woo. Exciting life. Occasionally I'll do something different- go out with some of my friends, see a movie, go shopping at an actual store... but most of the time, I'm either working or studying. It seems like my mom is on my case about that all the time, too- “Kaboom, if you don't live while you're young you're going to regret it when you get older!” Yeah, thanks a lot mom, like I didn't know that, especially not with you rubbing my face in it every goddamn day. And when she's not doing that, she's always going on about how I need to get off the Internet and do something else for a change.

It's not like my dad is much better. Sometimes, he'll be all like, “Kaboom, I really regret buying you that TV. You never come out of your room! Come and interact with the rest of us on occasion, it's alright!” Yeah, I'd feel a lot more confident about that if I wasn't getting lectured about how to be a “responsible adult” or “how to enjoy my life” or “don't work so much, you need to focus on your studies and have fun.” But, anyway, lately I've been doing just that- going downstairs to use the big-ass television in the living room that connects to Amazon and watch some instant videos from Amazon Prime. We all have it- I have it, my parents have it, my brother has it- and one of the television series that is available for free on Prime is The West Wing. It's a political drama that started airing in 1999, although you can't tell that unless you see the really old computers/cell phones/pagers the characters use. It's relevant enough that it could have been written yesterday. Anyway, I've been watching this show, one or two episodes a day, for the past week and a half. I didn't think anything of it, until my mom came in today after I shut the television off, and started talking to me. Apparently, I shouldn't be watching this heavy, depressing show on such a beautiful autumn day. I shouldn't dwell on the depressing topics that the show discusses. Well, thanks a lot mom, I wasn't actually “dwelling” on anything until you brought it up. After that, it turned into a half-hour argument about what I'm doing with my life.

For someone who's so obsessed with me going to university, it's a bit odd that she's so focused on me doing things other than studying and working. Before I got my job, every single day it was “go get a job, you lazy moocher!” Now that I have a job? “You need to work less, your schoolwork should be your first priority!” When I'm actually studying? “Go out and make some friends!” MAKE UP YOUR DAMN MIND. I can't do multiple things at once, And when I finally DO take a break from working my ass off nonstop to watch a television show I find interesting, I can't even do that? I don't know what the fuck she wants me to do! If everything I do is somehow bad, then what the hell am I supposed to do? Sit in my room and stare at the wall all day? No, that's not productive either. I have to work my ass off, yet have fun, but when I actually try to have fun, I'm doing it wrong? Nobody gave me an instruction manual on how I'm supposed to spend my free time! My watching television isn't hurting anyone, why does she care?

And wonderful. I just wrote a fucking novel on my mom complaining about me watching The West Wing, of all things. When did I move into Bizarro World, and why didn't anyone tell me?