Monopoly: UGH.

I think maybe the brightest point in my day was staring at the sun over the lake and seeing sunspots on the water where I was trying to make out which town was behind the trees in between the water inlets.  I yelled at my half-brother in the car today and called him a spoiled brat and I wanted to say more.  I spent two hours playing monopoly, beat my brother at it and he quit and I almost didn’t say anything because I had to put the paper money back where I found it in the wooden drawer of the nice set we had, but then he made a conversation about how I was hoarding my properties and so I let my mind do what it wanted.  I drove to Mount Dora after that and then my dad called and said ” You wanna play Monopoly again?”  and I said sure because I was up against all of them with a monopoly almost on Tennesse, New York Avenue, and Saint James Place, and almost on the red streets too.  I thought maybe I could get farther enough in the game now to buy houses on my properties.

My dad keeps on all the lights in his house.  His electric bill is like $350 a month and he doesn’t sweat it or complain and say he’ll try and get it down lower.  He has more pressing problems. My dad has really high ceilings and he made sure he had recess lighting put every where so when I’m over I go around snapping off most of the switches either for ambiance or for piece of mind.  It’s my was my of shutting out how guys argue a lot in a big echo-y house with six big bedrooms and lots of yard space.  When my dad and brother yell at each other they don’t hold back because they know they can yell as much and as loud as they want because they have a long long driveway that no one ever comes down.  They never have to buy candy for Halloween because it scares little kids to come down to our house since it’s a ten minute walk to the front door from the mailbox.  My stepmom paid for brass eagles to be put up on either side of the brick pillars that welcomed people into our long drive way.  But my brother, who got a PH.D in psychology to get to the bottom of why our stepmother was so crazy, took them off by hand because we didn’t like to think she had her hands on anything we were around after she moved out.

When I pulled into the driveway after I sat and waited for my half-brother to say goodbye to my older brother who was leaving for a trip, I walked in and I wanted to go to the back of my room  with my plastic bag filled with a chicken platter in a styrofoam cover and shut the door because I thought my older brother would still be mad at me that I beat him at Monopoly.  But he was nice when I came in and so I sat and ate chicken on the bone and watched a basketball game that I didn’t really know the rules to for an hour and fourty five minutes.I’m still walking around in my flannel pajamas.  I talked all night long to this guy in Wilmington, Delaware who got them too who says it doesn’t matter what state your in, you can always where flannel pajamas no matter what.


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