How the Grinch Stole Christmas...
I was trying to stay at school until I was done with my finals. I really was. However, in the midst of toiling away at my final projects, I get a text from my sister. She was asking if I was going to go back home that night, which I was not planning on. When I asked why, she said that my cousin was having a dinner/get together at her house for her birthday. Hearing that, I could not resist going back home, so I left school to go to this shindig. (Plus, whatever food they were gonna have at her house was a hell of a lot better than what I was gonna be getting at the school's dining hall.)
That's how I ended up at home the one weekend I said I was not going to go home. As typical as it is on Sunday morning, my dad was yelling for us to get ready for church, so that woke me. Well, that and a text that I got, but I think it was the yelling. Whatever it was, I woke up and as I got my bearings and de-grogged myself, I started overhearing my parents talk. I don't know if it was overhearing though. They don't exactly talk quietly.
What they were talking about was about our proposed trip to Disneyland. This year, in lieu of Christmas presents we were going to go on a trip to Disneyland. This was alright with me, since I love Disneyland. I kind of want to live there. (Yes, kristina_bitch , I realize my twelve year old-girl is showing again.) Anyway, what I hear them talking about is us not going to Disneyland anymore. Why? Apparently, it's all my fault.
We have a huge, jar/keg full of just quarters. It's basically a piggy bank fashioned out of an empty mini-keg. Although just mentioned in passing, I was apparently supposed to count said quarters. They told me this last week, during my Thanksgiving break. I tried to do it then, but they told me not to bother. They reasoned that we didn't have those brown quarter sleeves to keep track of them, so I didn't end up counting them.
The next day, which was Sunday (so I couldn't go to the bank to get said sleeves. I don't know if you could get them elsewhere. If you can, then I don't know about it.), I tried to take this jar to a CoinStar machine, but apparently I couldn't because they charge you a percentage of the money you had. Whatever then, I didn't take.
Apparently, the fact that those quarters were not counted is now completely my fault, even though I tried. Not only did I try, but when I did, I was told not to do it. They also went to the bank on Friday and failed to get said sleeves. Somehow all of this is my fault because I have a car and could have driven myself to get them. (I don't know why they're freaking out anyway. There's probably only $20 in that jar. However, they insist there's more. *shrugs*) (I don't think that really makes sense, but okay.) Also, it was all up to me to count them. Me, who does not live at home (during the week anyway). I can see their point though. It's not like I have two high school-aged siblings living at home, who are extremely capable of counting some quarters. (Oh wait...I think I do!) I also had plenty of time to do this too, since I'm not away at school most of the time and in the midst of a massive amounts of final projects and tests. (Wait...that sounds wrong.)
Yup, being stopped from doing what I was told to do by the people that told me to do it and having my time taken up by finals...I can see how all of this is my fault.
That's how I ended up at home the one weekend I said I was not going to go home. As typical as it is on Sunday morning, my dad was yelling for us to get ready for church, so that woke me. Well, that and a text that I got, but I think it was the yelling. Whatever it was, I woke up and as I got my bearings and de-grogged myself, I started overhearing my parents talk. I don't know if it was overhearing though. They don't exactly talk quietly.
What they were talking about was about our proposed trip to Disneyland. This year, in lieu of Christmas presents we were going to go on a trip to Disneyland. This was alright with me, since I love Disneyland. I kind of want to live there. (Yes, kristina_bitch , I realize my twelve year old-girl is showing again.) Anyway, what I hear them talking about is us not going to Disneyland anymore. Why? Apparently, it's all my fault.
We have a huge, jar/keg full of just quarters. It's basically a piggy bank fashioned out of an empty mini-keg. Although just mentioned in passing, I was apparently supposed to count said quarters. They told me this last week, during my Thanksgiving break. I tried to do it then, but they told me not to bother. They reasoned that we didn't have those brown quarter sleeves to keep track of them, so I didn't end up counting them.
The next day, which was Sunday (so I couldn't go to the bank to get said sleeves. I don't know if you could get them elsewhere. If you can, then I don't know about it.), I tried to take this jar to a CoinStar machine, but apparently I couldn't because they charge you a percentage of the money you had. Whatever then, I didn't take.
Apparently, the fact that those quarters were not counted is now completely my fault, even though I tried. Not only did I try, but when I did, I was told not to do it. They also went to the bank on Friday and failed to get said sleeves. Somehow all of this is my fault because I have a car and could have driven myself to get them. (I don't know why they're freaking out anyway. There's probably only $20 in that jar. However, they insist there's more. *shrugs*) (I don't think that really makes sense, but okay.) Also, it was all up to me to count them. Me, who does not live at home (during the week anyway). I can see their point though. It's not like I have two high school-aged siblings living at home, who are extremely capable of counting some quarters. (Oh wait...I think I do!) I also had plenty of time to do this too, since I'm not away at school most of the time and in the midst of a massive amounts of final projects and tests. (Wait...that sounds wrong.)
Yup, being stopped from doing what I was told to do by the people that told me to do it and having my time taken up by finals...I can see how all of this is my fault.