(no subject)

A thing about my dad that is making me absolutely crazy:

My preferred method of preparing food is batch cooking - I don't enjoy cooking much and am happy to eat the same things over and over, so I like to make a large amount of a thing once and eat it all week. I do this on Sundays. Sunday has been my household-agreed-upon cooking day for years now. I'm usually done by about lunchtime, but I like to make sure that Mom and Dad know what I'm planning to cook and how long it's projected to take in case they also need the kitchen and want to make plans. This week, I am making soup and bread and brownies. I have told both my parents this at least 5 times, on top of the fact that I've been cooking/baking on Sunday mornings for, as noted above, years.

This morning, my dad comes into the kitchen while I'm finishing breakfast and says, "Are you cooking today?" HE DOES THIS EVERY WEEK.

No, Dad, I'm doing fucking necromancy in here. I'm raising the dead - that's why I have the bread flour and yeast out. It's Sunday, Dad - what the fuck do you think I'm doing?

...it's possible that the stress of not having a break from my parents for almost a year is really getting to me this weekend.

(no subject)

Going through my bookshelves, I am discovering just how many times I have purchased redundant Lovecraft stories.

One expects to pay for say, "Call of Cthulhu" or "Shadow Over Innsmouth" more than once in the course of buying various collections, but I resent the fact that I have paid money for "The Horror at Red Hook" or "The Outsider" more than once.