We’re watching my least favorite movie and I hate it so much. SO MUCH.
In other news, what should have been a good day’s sleep went horribly astray. I went to bed at a very reasonable time and was looking forward to a nice rest, but my dad decided that yesterday evening was a good time to tear all the shelves out of his closet, which is on the other side of my bedroom wall. First there were bizarre dreams to try to explain the pounding and wood-tearing noises, and then I woke up to find all the little pictures on that wall shuddering and myself unable to get back to sleep for an hour or so. Granted, he has to do it sometime, and I knew the risk of going nocturnal in a house full of daytime people, but it was still frustrating. And I am desperately tired now, as, with the continued noise, none of the sleep I did get was very good.
Holy shit, I fucking hate this movie. But enough bitching.