This Morning

I slept in today. Sleeping in at home is usually a bad idea. For whatever reason, my Mom looks down on sleeping in. I'm not sure why exactly, given that I don't have anywhere in particular to be today. But if she was home, she would taunt me about it, or, if she was in an especially bad mood, she'd pick a fight with me over it.
Which is why I was so pleased that she isn't home today. I can sleep in without drama.
Getting up was another matter. I went down to the kitchen, where my sister was eating. I scavenged around a bit. There's nothing to eat here. I should be more specific: there's nothing to eat here I haven't had twelve times already this week or isn't bad for me. So I'm often left wondering what I should eat. Skipping meals is bad for you, but I often find, despite my hunger, that there's nothing here I want to eat, and end up not eating. I go for the not eating.
Then I'm back up in my room, turning the computer on. And there's no internet. There's internet for everyone else in the house, but not me and my computer Stella. No. This would be too easy. I mess around with it for a minute. Nothing.
I just got a new device a few days ago that was suppose to make it so I could get internet easier. It was working perfectly for the last few days. My Dad asked how it was last night at dinner. "Great," I said. Should have knocked on wood. I went to go get my Dad and asked him to look at it, since if anything should happen to Stella when I'm using it, I'm in trouble. If anyone else messes it up, it's the universe's fault.
So I'm back downstairs in the kitchen, again, rummaging, looking for something to eat. Still nothing. I consider one of my usual techniques for not being hungry while at home: drinking water. It's the sort of terrible thing an anorexic does, but it gives me the brief allusion that I'm full. I go with it. As I'm opening the fridge, one of the magnets falls off the door and breaks.
That's it. It's official: today is crappy. I've been up for a whole nine minutes and I've gotten frustrated by three things already. Now you wonder why I hate being at home? My minimum for frustration at school is usually three hours.
My Dad comes down and asks if he can reboot the computer. Seriously? I could have done that. I thought about doing that, but considering how bad it is for Stella, I decided against it, because there must be some other way to fix the problem. "Don't you think it's bad that it has to be rebooted?" I ask him.
"Look, there's no other way to fix it. If you have a suggestion, I'd love to hear it."
Woha. That was uncalled for. I asked a question, one that, given the circumstances, is valid. Rebooting is not good for a computer. You should do it only in extreme circumstances. Like, you know, when there is no other way to fix something.
This is one of the things I really struggle with when it comes to my Dad. He doesn't take criticism at all, to the point where it's impossible to have a conversation with him, even a calm one, over a problem. As bad as I am with criticism, I am not nearly this bad. This is one of the ways I hope I am never like my Father. If you have a problem with him, you're stuck, because he'll never listen to you. He'll never consider that you might have feelings and that he is (unintentionally or not) stepping all over them.
He goes back upstairs to mess around with the computer, but has no luck with it, and gives up after ten minutes
Oh, and now I'm hungry again. Perfect.