Disappointment

I was right damn it.

In a surge of depression and anger last night, I told Stacy how I think my weekend will go. I said to her:

1) The way things have been going these past few weeks, I don't expect to come home to my camera, because my father probably hasn't even ordered it yet
2) I have to deal with that tiramisu-buying woman
3) Tracy probably wouldn't be able to come on Monday

So far, strike one. I knew it. I knew it.

Conversation to the man I have to call my father:
"Hey, where are you?
Almost there.
Hey, have you ordered the camera yet?
No.
Why not?
If you really want it, we can order it tonight or something.
Forget it. *click*"

To mother:
"If you two didn't want to do this, then you could've told me and I would've just paid my aunt and ask her to do this for me. What? You don't want to pay for this or he is still waiting to 'check it out'? Forget it. I can't even ask you two for something so small as going to a website and clicking a few buttons.
*silence*"

Yep, I knew it. I don't even know why I asked. I don't even know why I trust these people anymore.