Me, Myself, and My Father

There’s nothing I like better than a mid-afternoon nap. After enjoying, say, another Woody Allen film (oh, and I’ve just watched Zelig for the first time – fabulous), I often feel an urgent longing to fall into a sedentary state. And, admittedly, I usually satisfy the longing with a nap. Now, as someone who has lived alone for essentially the last year, this has posed little problem. I could always nap when I wanted and never fear being disturbed. Of course, now with summer vacation, things have changed.

Such as today. Earlier today my father awoke me to say “The mail didn’t run yet.” Yes, that’s right, he woke a sleeping man, from his bed, to merely announce that the mail did not run. This would perhaps be understandable (though still not exactly reasonable) if I were, say, expecting an important package, but this is hardly the case. In fact, other than Netflix movies, I hardly get any mail at all. So, why exactly would he do this?

No, I haven’t the slightest idea either. However, this incident, and similar occurrences have begun to wear on my temper quite a bit. You see, since my father is a teacher, he is also at home with me during these exciting summer months. And he’s just always . . . here. Lurking. Talking. Blaring the television. Asking me if I want leftover casserole for lunch. And on and on and on. And on again.

Now, a few of you may keenly point out that it’s just as well that I become accustomed to living with someone again, as I will have to do so when I move into my new apartment (which will be very soon, I think). However, I assure you that my future roommate is not nearly as unbearable as my father. I’ve even become rather sad that I did not somehow stay in Milledgeville over the summer and take some classes. That’s how bad he’s annoying me.

But, then, as dad likes to say, “hindsight’s 50/50."