Last night sucked but I think it was all in my head. At least I don’t know if my reaction to the situation was appropriate, or was it a huge overreaction. It honestly doesn’t matter, the night just sucked.
I didn’t sleep much on Monday night. By the time I finished up my parent sitting duties (around 8:00pm) I was really tired and starting to get crabby. When my mother started dozing off in the living room I tried a couple of times to get her to go to bed. At one point she actually said she was going to bed and then fell back to sleep. My father offered me the TV remote when the Sox game ended. Not because he was going to sleep, just because he was being nice. I knew he wanted to watch the news so I let him. That was the last I saw of the remote.
When did my temper tantrum start? After 10:00, at least. Maybe around 11:00? I really needed to sleep, that’s all. I know they are both half deaf and crank the TV volume, I know they put the TV on as background noise (my mother’s TV is on right now even though she’s not in the room with it), I just really needed to go to sleep.
My father woke up a little before 1:00 and turned off the TV. He also turned off the air conditioner, so you win some and you lose some, I guess. My mother was still asleep on the recliner but I didn’t care anymore. I turned on the light in her room and lowered the volume on the TV. I didn’t turn it off because I’m pretty sure if I did she would not be able to turn it back on by herself. I wanted her to be able to have enough light to get back to her room if she needed to, but I sure as hell turned off the light in the living room before wiring myself up to the CPAP and going to sleep. I woke up a little less than four hours later, because I always wake up after a little less than four hours when I am on that piece of shit love seat that passes for a couch, and she was in bed with the TV and the light both off. I was able to go back to sleep eventually and I ended up with 4.75 hours of sleep. Yipdy-fucking-doo.
My mother was up long before I was. After she finished her morning routine I went into the bathroom to do mine. When I walked in there, I knew my father’s piss jug (they gave him one at the hospital to take home in case he has an emergency in the middle of the night and can’t get himself up in time) was half full. I made a note that I would empty it for him before I got him his 8:00am pills. When I got out of the shower the piss jug was empty. No one walked into the bathroom while I was in there. If they had, they might have seen me throw a temper tantrum over the empty bottle of shampoo, but no one did. I have to assume that means one of them, most likely my mother because I’m pretty sure my father didn’t stand up until around 8:20, dumped the jug full of piss down the kitchen sink. So remind me not to put anything in the fucking kitchen sink today.
…and after all that, I get to punch into work now. Woo-fucking-hoo.
Yes, I am probably overreacting to everything. I honestly don’t care. I am due for a temper tantrum or 12.