Battle For The Living Room.

*Originally written at 2.54 am*



Right now all I want to do is watch a few old Grey's Anatomy episodes.
Yet, I'm not.
"Why?" you ask?
It's because my father is in the living room on his laptop working, when he should be doing that in his office.

I LOVE old episodes of Grey's and I have ALL of season 5 in there.
It's calling, crying, and BEGGING me to watch it. I want to watch it, oh, so much.
It's my destiny.
Right now, my father is keeping me from fulfilling that destiny.

You might be asking yourself "Why don't you just go in there and watch the dang show? It's not that big of a deal."

Well, you're wrong.

He hates it when I stay up past 9:15. I practically went through Normandy to move my bedtime, (That title is so stupid.) to 10:30 pm.
It's not like I'm in the military, and have to get up at 4 in the morning to go kill sandmonkeys.
It's so ridiculous.

I'm listening closely by the door to make sure the coast is clear to go start Grey's Anatomy, so I'm writing this on the iNotes app on my iPhone. I'm gonna post this in the morning.
I feel like a soldier in the war, writing in his journal.


Wait...
My Dad turned the porch lights off.
I hear movement in the living room.

It's quiet now.

SCORE.



UPDATE: Shit. He's in there.

He's fucking sleeping on the couch in the dark like some sort of Pedo-Ninja waiting in the night for his next victim.

Look's like there's not gonna be any Grey's Anatomy for me tonight.

*Sigh*