I am still sick, still bored, and reading so much Questionable Content, I think my sense of humor has been permanently altered. I probably won't ever be able to laugh again if physical violence or smart-assing is not involved.
Came back from a stay at my mothers cabin (since I can't really do anything anyway, I might as well do it somewhere the dog can run off and chase sheep), to find my resently appointed step-mother in my fathers flat. Whoopdey-freekin-doo. I was planning to use the next couple of days to pack up all my stuff for my big move (oh, btw, I manipulated Tent-boy into being my moving-truck. Boobs are really practical sometimes), and this was appearently an intrusion into my step-mummys personal space. The woman who hasn't officially moved in yet.
My dad phoned me. Not to ask how my soon to be kidney-failure was going, but to ask if I (she who dost live here, at least for two more days) could be somewhere else for a day or two. So my step-mum (she who dost not live here), could have some space. This somewhere else was unspecified.
I refused, because my father is acting like a twerp, and technically, I'm not invading Step-mums space, she's invading MINE.
Until wednesday anyway.
PS
Trying to get back in shape while on strong-elephant-like antibiotics = bad idea
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