Mum and I are in a bit of a tiff (again). Last year I clearly expressed that I was not helping on the paper route; it’s ridiculous and I refuse to support it. They have to drive down to the paper depot, pick up the papers, stuff them, put them in the car, drive back up to our neighborhood and deliver. Let’s look at this logically, shall we? The depot is a good 3, 4 miles away, and while driving a car that gets 17 miles to the gallon they spend a quarter a day in gas, not including the rapid depreciation of the car due to the miles they’re piling on it. The family receives 6 dollars a day. 6 dollars! It takes 3 people an hour to do the route, and after gas they each make less than 2 dollars an hour.
My sleep is worth much, much more than 2 dollars an hour.
“It’s not about the money.” Jeff declared today at breakfast. It’s not? Oh, so it must be about the exalting elation one experiences while getting up at 5 AM to be underpaid. I understand that. If that’s your cup of tea, that’s just fine, just don’t get me involved.
Today mum came to me at some ungodly hour of the morn and shook me into consciousness. “We need help with the paper.” She said.
I rolled over and mumbled incoherently but defiantly into my pillow.
“Fine. But if you’re too tired to help us with the paper route, then I’m too tired to ever help you with your physics again.” With this she left the room.
What smashing logic! I can easily see how a paper route that is not taken out of financial necessity can be fairly compared to the pursuit of a higher education! It makes so much sense!
When I did wake up to the noise of the kitchen, I heard mum’s sharp tone from my bedroom.
“Is that for Rachael? Give me the phone, I know exactly what to say to them.”
“No, don’t invite her to breakfast, she doesn’t want to come.” Just to prove her wrong I slid out of bed and wobbled over to the table to scornfully fall into my chair.
“Jeff would you like a glass of milk? How about you, Mormor? Ricky?”
How can someone so old act so immature? Am I wrong in insisting to be left out of the paper route? I assisted last week and decided that it was rubbish that I didn’t want to dabble in; I see no reason in doing something so pointless.
So mum and I are in a tiff, and I’ve decided to go to Yale II today instead of Yale I with the fam. Ever since we moved I’ve attended both each week; I want to continue to support the Yale II young women but now also need to support Yale I because I’m in the boundaries. This seems like a small feat, but it’s not; Mormon Church is 3 hours long, for those of you who don’t know, and 6 hours in one day can be a bit much some weeks. So today I stayed home (though I’m going to attend a full 3 hours at 1:00), and I feel like such a sinner! It’s funny, but I feel so rebellious while I’m home alone, I don’t know why. It’s nice to have the home to myself, though.
Frustration is not conducive to decent or lucid writing, I’m afraid, so I apologize for such wretched material. Back in February I put much more time and thought into my blog then I do now, and what I produced was of some merit, I feel. I want to resume writing with some type of rationality, and I truly am endeavoring to do so. It is a laborious task, though, so it will take me awhile to climb back into my better habits. But hopefully I’ll start delivering something better, something deeper, and occasionally comical.
I can’t even end this entry fluidly. Ah, this is terrible! I shouldn’t post this but I need to publish the good and the bad; an accurate portrayal of my thoughts is much more important then flowery articulation, I suppose. So farewell, dearest reader, and do try to bear with me during this scarcity of brilliance. It will return to me shortly, I pray.
