Venting Time

Well I had a bit of a confrontation with my dad last night. We were eating supper and he asked me how the house hunting was going. Of course he doesn't just ask how it's going. He asks, "Are you still house hunting or have you given up?" It's not the first time he's asked me whether I've given up or not. And well just after he asked me fork slipped and because the salad bowl is glass it clunked down pretty loud. So to him it looked like a threw my fork down in anger. This all happened really quick and I hadn't even gotten a chance to answer so he starts raising his voice and telling me not to get angry at him.

So I rolled with it. I got angry. Told him I'm tired of him asking me about the house hunting. How I haven't heard from my real estate agent and how I haven't seen anything. "Well you don't way anything," he says. "Well what am I supposed to tell you? That I didn't find anything every single day? Don't worry cause I'm not going to give up on finding my own place." Sigh... why is it that I have to raise my voice in order for my dad to hear me?

I'm tired of his nagging. I can never seem to make him happy. I finished school and he starts nagging about a job. I got a job so he starts nagging about pay off my school loans. I paid off my loans so he starts nagging me about saving money. I save my money and he starts nagging me about what I do in my spare time. I'm not on permanent at my job so he starts nagging me about finding a new one. I decide to wait on the School Board and once the position comes up he nags me about it. "Have you heard anything yet? What's taking them so long? You should be looking for another job." I wait and I get the permanent position. So then I decide, all by my lonesome, to find myself a place, to buy a house. He tells me there's no rush for me to find a place, and then he turns around a nags me about it. Like I'm not going to tell him that I'm going to view a house. I've already told him that I want him there to help me view houses.

And yet they wonder why I want to move out. They wonder why I refuse to look at any of the houses in their neighborhood. If I did that he'd be by all the time so he could nag me about mowing my lawn, shoveling the drive way, or about something that's broken and needs to be fixed.

I'm tired of living under his thumb. I'm tired of him trying to shove his advise down my throat when I haven't even asked for it. I was tired of being 26, single, and living with my parents and now, not even a month later, I'm already tired of being 27, single, and living with my parents.

Matthew.