Only Tuesday and too many thoughts (not all here, though)

What should I think of a day that begins after too short a night (welcome back, sleeplessness!) with a bookshelf falling onto my head? Which: OUCH! Shakespeare’s heavy!
My neighbours came to see me and I really missed carrying the baby girl in my arms, she’s so sweet. We looked at a book with the map of Europe and we drank fake coffee with lots of milk. Then I had to leave. Sometimes I wish that a part-time job could be enough for me, so that I would have free afternoons for my life. I could give lessons like I did in the past and be a lot happier. Right from 8 o’clock yesterday morning I realised that I was already hysterical and hyper-nervous, which doesn’t convey a good impression of myself. And again, I’ve forgotten the flowers of Bach at home. Not they I seriously believe that they could help me. But they expire next year, so it’s worth a try anyway.
Tonight I’m going to the gym…and…I’ve decided that I don’t care about the B&S guy anymore. As in, you don’t want me, then you don’t deserve me. Also: I don’t have time to waste over impossible dreams. And: I plan to leave this godless place in a year, so why bother?
See? I’m good! New year, fresh start, turn the page and go! I’ll celebrate with a massive tidy-up of my room tonight, after the crash of the bookshelf, and…with a massive shopping for books and dvd on Saturday, so I’ll have something to watch on my new notebook (when it arrives, that is…I still have to choose the model, with the precious advice of Genius Brother).
Then, for more serious thinking:
I miss my father.
And I am so angry about it.
Because he’s an idiot.
A useless moron, the lord of darkness who never open the shutters at home, the dictator who thinks he’s always right and knows the Truth of the world, the lazy bastard who wakes up later than anybody in the house and leaves after we’ve all gone for hours, and never unloads the dishwasher or lays the table even though he’s always the first to arrive home at lunch time (although now he does lay the table for dinner, since I don’t have dinner with them).
But.
I do miss when the laugh, and the jokes, and walking together, and saying goodnight when I leave the kitchen with my cup of milk in the evening. The little things.
I haven’t spoken to me for two months, now. The thing is, I remember that one or two days after our big argument, I came home after work and he was preparing his lunch, and I said hello, and he didn’t say hello back! And that really drove me mad with anger, because he was behaving as if he was right and I had all the faults in the world! Now, the point doesn’t obviously lie in who is right and who is wrong, but what I mean is that a normal father-daughter relationship is not possible, because I cannot forgive and forget the way he always behaves, and I also know these are things that cannot change.
This has happened before, back to summer 2005, although I cannot remember why, exactly. And I remember that I started talking back to him about a month later. Can’t remember how it happened, though. But I remember that I was super depressed for my unemployed situation, and the not-speaking to my father was making things harder to bear.
But this time it’s different, you see, because he behaves as if he’s right, I said, and therefore maintains this angry attitude towards me, and I cannot forget when he didn’t say hello back to me that day, which would have been a way to start talking again. He sort of pushed me to it. So in a way I feel he still deserves the silent treatment, because if he really felt like going back he could just say something. It feels like it’s becoming too late to go back.
And what I was thinking the other day while washing the dishes (washing the dishes prompts thinking, apparently), is that if he died tomorrow, I would be…angry. And immensely sad, because I would regret every single day we haven’t spoken.
Mind you, it is no longer a matter of pride. It was never for me, anyway. It was a matter of self-respect, of anger and one drop too many (which in English would be “the last straw”).
I don’t know. Maybe I could just say hello tonight, or tomorrow, when I see him.

P.S., after posting this I am going to try and switch to the new blogger version. I have no idea of what is going to happen or anything, so…fingers crossed.