Thursday, December 15, 2005
I bought a Christmas present for The Megabitch this afternoon, which completes the gift-acquisition for my four natural (or so far as I have always been told) siblings, and am now in a small quandry as to whether I ought to send candy or something to Jeremy and Philip. Neither of them would expect anything from me, the hated child, but I do not want to exclude them, either. Perhaps some extravagantly wrapped Toblerones will do.
In the past couple of days, I have kept having to explain why I am not going "home" for Christmas. My reply usually begins, "Because I have arrived at that point in my relationship with my father wherein if I ever see him again, I will murder him with my bare hands." This answer satisfies most people, though some have made the observation that I cannot avoid him all my life. This may well be true, but it is a challenge well worth attempting. Besides, I lived with the Dummkopf eighteen years, and in all that time he did a damned good job of avoiding me, and most of his other responsibilities, so surely, being his daughter, I possess the capacity to do likewise.
Into the evening I shall read, until an 8:00 on-campus performance of Bach's organ works. That should be fun; ich liebe Bach. Es werde lang sein. Tomorrow I shall journey forth to attempt to find a place of temporary employment. I applied online to a few places, but it might be worth trying the establishments around my neighborhood.
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 1:06 PM]