Relief, Resentment and ...Something

So... I just got back from tuition, where I had a lovely dinner and shared (okay, not that much sharing) lots of laughs with my tuition mates. What's really disconcerting is the fact that I felt dread going home, something I really shouldn't logically feel seeing as how I practically beg to stay holed up in my little "sanctuary". I hadn't felt that way in months...long months.

When I got home, I expected to see exactly what I left behind for an hour and a half -- a dark, unwelcoming house with a parent holed up in a room for the rest of the week.

I found a note telling me to get to a task and my mom bustling about as though nothing had happened. I talked to her normally, no trembling in the voice, no grimace of snaps. It was as though the past two days of moping and screaming (it's a good thing the neighbours are off on holiday) never happened. It was a routine all over again.

I felt the usual rush of relief, and some leftover resentment. Relief for the fact that I actually know I have a partly reliable parent again to turn to, resentment for having to go through this everytime a row breaks out. I suppose it's a great improvement from years back when there would be LOTS of screaming and shouting, and hours of banging on doors... you get the picture. It was a mini battle field all on it's own, with things going crash and really bad conditions for a good night's sleep. Let me tell anyone out there who's miserable/bored/crazed enough to read my endless ranting: Trying to further train your inner 'sleeper' in my home while one of those 'fits' is in action is NOT a Nobel prize winning idea. If, however, one is trying to cumulate a prized insomniac, welcome to my hotbed of stress. It's a freaking wonder that I've become an insomniac whenI haven't even lived two full decades, and got my first few white hairs at the age of fourteen (I plucked them out and they're smashed between the pages of a book).

So, today proved to be interesting. I started out with one dog, one cat and a sulking parent; now it's late evening (and probably past a few wee ones' curfew) and I'm short a dog, still have a cat, and highly unsure of my parent's current stability still. And before anyone speculates, NO my dog was not slaughtered/maimed/brutalised/run over by a vehicle. As far as I know, it's perfectly ALIVE and well, and is socialising with other wee and not so wee canines at the training facility for "special"/uncontrollably hyperactive canines.

Interesting, unnerving... and if I get anymore coal in my stockings, I won't be held responsible for my actions towards a certain fat dude wearing red!