Uuuugghhh.

My dad is a fucking retard. He thinks he can take up all of my weekends to do stupid labor around the house to get it ready to sell by June. Yeah, that's going to happen. My weekends are for me, not for him to use me. I'll be sure to let him know how I feel when he feels my full resistance to anything he asks. He has the nerve to say he needs my two hands and smart brain between my ears. Oooh, that's a first. I'm smart to him. Only when he needs me to do shit for him.

I thought he really might have turned a new leaf as he said he would after Roxy died, but I see that's not happening. As I thought, it was too good to be true. I think I'm going to start buying Lotto tickets. If I win, I can buy my way out of this hellhole and out of his reach.