Dad got a bill from some lab. The insurance didn't get pay them. I spent lunch calling both places. None would talk to me because I'm not my dad and I'm not authorized. My dad couldn't speak English, I said. Insurance lady was like three-way call him. He didn't pick up. Lab lady was like he needs to get us something in writing to authorize you. What the fuck. By fax. I'm going to just fucking lie and say I'm him. How the fuck would they know who is who? What would a fucking piece of paper do? It's the same verification data, whether it's coming from him or me. Fuck all that to hell I was so pissed.
Mom talking about her friend who was complaining how her adult kids would just eat and then go back downstairs without helping clean up. That's exactly what I do! It's the very thing I hate about accepting help from my parents, that they have leverage and can hold it over me. I don't like having to come home for dinner with the expectation that I come home and eat and that they would wait for me. It's like those windshield wiper cleaning homeless guys at the gas station. I didn't ask for this shit. It's not even doing me a favor because I much rather cook random stuff for myself and not even have meals.
Everything is fucked up and I hate everything.