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A Simple Plan
2002, August 9 - 11:38 p.m.

My other wrist hurts now. First it was my left and now my right. This is ludicrous. I hope it's better tomorrow, I don't think I could handle the humiliation of coming into work with yet another injury.

My dad blew up again today. He's a walking time bomb, one that never self destructs but injures others and moves on. This time it was about moving me up to Oakville. His bright idea was to move me up on the 23rd. I would miss several days of work and thus burn a bridge for work next summer, as I had told my boss I would stay on til the last week of August. I told him it has to be later than that because I would miss out on making $150 from work otherwise. That is a lot of money. That could be two months worth of utilities plus a month of groceries. He doesn't seem to see that as worth staying. It isn't convenient for him you see. I said that Uncle John volunteered himself to move me up if Dad could not and I offered this information thinking it was helpful and considerate. That is when he lost it. Claimed it was his thing. Said I was selfish. Hung up. Called Anne-Marie at work and told (yelled at) her to butt out. Called me back and barked at me and hung up again.

The man is insane. I schedualed a van for the 28th and I will move up on that day. He has made a mountain out of a molehill.

He had me crying. I couldn't help but think of how remarkably uncomplicated my life would be if he weren't a part of it. If he were gone and my mom were still here. I would never have been so lucky. I don't wish my father dead, but if I had been given the choice of which one should live it wouldn't be an overly difficult decision. I feel evil when I come to these conclusions. I feel hateful. But at the same time... I can't help it.

I saw my Poppie today. We dicussed my dad's shortcomings. He knows far more about him than I would have imagined. I knew far more about his misdealings with Jamie and I than he would have rather known about. Together we were disgusted.

I need that, every now and then, to be told by someone else that he's an ass. He's my dad and I was brought up around his brand of fairness and reason. I sometimes question whether or not I'm right to do or say something regarding him. Honour thy father and thy mother. But then I don't think God ever intended for parents to bleed their children dry.

We also talked of Jamie. Jamie needs to be away from Dad lest Dad poisons his mind into thinking that lending him a few thousand from his eventual inheritance is the right thing to do. I worry for him. If Dad sucked $21,500 from me, what can he do to his son, whom he has been brainwashing over the years?

Nothing is ever simple. Ever.

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