DAD: “At your age I already had two kids.”
ME: “How much was your apartment?”
DAD: “About $650.”
ME: “Mine is $1,850.”
DAD: “Yeah but salaries were lower.”
ME: “What did you make?”
DAD: “Maybe $35,000.”
ME: “I make $58,000.”
DAD: “Exactly. You make way more.”
ME: “My salary went up 66%.”
DAD: “Right.”
ME: “The rent went up 185%.”
Long silence.
Then he asked if I had considered getting a roommate.
I'm starting to think percentages only count when they're convenient.
Working 7–8 hours a day just to come home and have only 4 hours of personal time and rest, including preparing for the next day, feels deeply wrong and sad.
this nigga just said you black out drunk i carry your limp body into the house hydrate you take your clothes off fuck you and then you wake up with no memory of it