Angry People; Happy Ana

"I'm going into town in an hour and a half, and i want you to come with me to help me with our vending machines," my mom stated as soon as i stumbled sleepily from my bedroom. (Yes, my family owns vending machines; we contribute to the obesity of America and even make money from it. Disgusting, i know.)
"Can't you go later? I need to work out this morning, and that's not enough time to get ready."
And just like that she was mad. "No, i can't go later. I've gotta get home before noon. Why can't you work out tomorrow? You haven't worked out in forever."
I cringed from her painful reminder that i was indeed a lazy, fat fuck who hadn't worked out in over a month. "Because i have to start today. I've been telling myself i'll start tomorrow for way too long."
"I can't do it by myself. I'll have to call your father, and he won't be happy."
Her threat didn't daunt me. I had Ana on my side. "Don't you dare give in; you need this," she whispered in my ear."
"I'm sorry, but i can't. I have to work out, and i can't do that and go to town and then go to work. There's only one of me, and there's only so many hours in the day," i told my mother.
She sighed that angry sigh and grabbed the phone. "Fine," she said harshly. "Whatever."
I'd just made both my parents mad at me, but Ana was pleased. She kissed my cheek. "You've got to do what you've got to do," she said. "Sometimes you've got to make other people angry so you can have what you want."