An Annoyance

As I slave away on my honours Latin project, I get called downstairs for dinner. It's pork chops, my least favourite food possibly of all time. I try it; it's nasty and full of gristle. My mom tells me to cut the gristle out. I do so. Everyone acts annoyed like not only am I picky, but like it's personally hurting them. My dad begins to tell one of his really long stories about how he learned to season things.

"It's easy to season things." I say. "You just throw a ton of Garlic on it."

"Could you be any more annoying?" He asks.

"What am I doing that's so annoying?"

"Complaining and sulking."

"I'm not sulking," I explain. "I'm just not beaming."

I ask to be excused. They ask me if thats all I plan to eat all evening. I answer yes and they all laugh that I'll sneak down and get more food. Then they ask me what's wrong.

What the hell do they think is wrong? Finals are next week, I have the last projects of the year to finish up tonight, my worst classes are the only ones they care about, and if I don't score well my life may as well be over. And I'm supposed to spring down to dinner?

This is a higher expectation than any they have for my grade card....