I have to get up in six hours; what better time to ask me about the meaning of life?

I should be asleep right now. I don't blame my parents, I guess... it's my neurosis that possesses me to blog.

I wake up at 5am most weekdays, and try to go to bed early most weeknights. My parents KNOW that. Nonetheless, they often call me after 10pm and leave a message requesting a response preferably that night. Because calling before 10pm wouldn't work as well for some reason. My dad did this about a month ago-- asked for my passport number (for a family trip next year) and preferred a response that night but would magnanimously accept a response the following day.

Anyway, I got out of class at 9:50pm to no phone message from my parents, and lost signal at the metro station at about 10pm. Got signal again at about 10:30pm, with a message from my parents (asking, with urgency, to which humanitarian organization they should donate, and no the fact that they value my opinion or at least want me to think that they do, is not lost on me).

I called when I got off the metro, discussed donations with my mom; she insisted on "escorting" me on the phone until I reached home, and at that point my dad picked up. We were all saying our 'goodnight's and I told mom to get some sleep, because she said she wasn't feeling well. After she'd already hung up, dad repeated mom's symptoms to me. And I do care, but I'd already heard them from the source, and I was definitely ready to go to bed. It's been a really long day. So then, at 10:50pm, my dad gets inspired to ask me whether I've seen some old movie, and tells me what actor is in it, tells me it's a must see, and is about to go on about it for much longer,
when I say, "you know what, I'm not going to remember any of this right now, could we talk about it later?" Which, with a few more hints, worked, but it was just baffling: why did my dad think I'd want to get into an involved discussion over an old movie at 10:50pm on a weeknight??

On that note, goodnight.