I was bringing dishes to the back of the house for me to clean, but I noticed that some of the rags that I washed the other day were missing.

I looked at the door leading to my father’s room and saw not only my rags, but also the huge blanket that I was about to throw since it was a pain in the ass. Not only that, but I saw my dad lying down on his bed mindlessly watching YouTube videos while my blood was slowly boiling.

At this point, I was really fed up. I washed those rags for a reason. I want them to be used by the people on our apartment, not for his sorry ass.

God fucking damn. Holy shit. I have to remind this dude over and over again to not use the fucking rags. I just can’t.

But, whatever, what’s done is done. I’m glad those rags are being used by someone.