I thought my parents leaving would make my life easier. And, to be clear, it has. I still have to interact with them ,however, and last night we Zoomed with my brother while they grind out their quarantine for two weeks in a hotel room. My brother was late because he had appointments all day long and my mother couldn’t wait so she started a meeting. First thing my father asks is if ‘the restaurant’ was still sending meals. He meant Origin Meals, which is not a restaurant, but prepared meals. I said no. He barged on, worrying about my breakfast (because we didn’t eat Origins for breakfast).
Side note: i have a weird habit of adding an ‘s’ at the end of things when abbreviating them. Like Origin Meals to Origins and Cub Foods to Cubs.
I mean, I’ve lived alone all my life except for one year and have managed to feed myself up to this point. More to the point, what was he going to do about it? And what had he done about it while here? Jack and shit. My mom cooked breakfast, not him. He just sat on his ass and scrolled through his phone, adding spam to it because he didn’t know what the hell he was doing.
Anyway, after the needless talk about how I’m feeding myself, my mom nervously cleared her throat. I went on high alert because I knew that she was about to say something that was going to piss me off. And I was right. She brought up what I was doing with my life and mentioned getting a degree in psychology. A graduate degree, to be clear.
Backstory: Every time my parents visit, there’s at least one if not several talks about what I’m going to do with my life. I understand why they bring it up, but they go about it in the worst possible way. And in this case, I was hoping we could skip it entirely and just be happy I was alive. But, no. They brought it up–or actually, my mother brought it up several times. The times my father was there, he just sat there with that blank look on his face because he couldn’t follow the conversation. I made it clear that I did not want to talk about it because I was focusing on recovering. I said I had enough money to be fine for six months (and, really, I could go a year) and that was what I was going to do. Please note the six months comment because that’s important.