Well, so much for that weekend. Mom and Dad are back from Crossvile.

I also delivered the news to Dad about Dan calling. We kindda went at it verbally. Misunderstandings and shit like that. I hate when my parents don't understand me. It's the lowest form of neglect. They act as if they know my interest, but really they dont. It really sucks. At least they showed that they know a little about me. Not like it's a big thing and they can read me like a book, which frankly I'd like them to do.

If working too much does that to you, then I'm happy being unemployed. Unfortunately, reality hits me right now, and I know I've got to work for that little piece of paper/cloth with the dead President on it. I'm going to end up as ridged at my mother and father. I can see it right now.

Pop one more dream bubble. Kindergarden teachers should really quit saying to their students to dream big dreams and try to get to them. No dream is reachible anymore. Not unless you have cash. I can't wait for this to be said. "Anything can be bought... from weapons to human lives." Once that's a common phrase, then I'll know money is apparently everything.