Saturday, January 31

day 11746: the last word

I'm starting to doubt my ability to judge peoples' characters. Sometimes I wonder if it really does take me years longer to see the things that others see well ahead of me. So many people - so much time and energy wasted.

Sunday, January 25

day 11740: oh wacky day...

First, the BRAT eats my glasses and I spend an extremely blurry day wearing months old contact lenses that I'd forgot to throw out (i.e. the ONLY pair of contact lenses I had downtown).

Then I spend the day making a gigantic poo, and rushing around trying to get a pair of glasses or contacts so I can see again.

Wednesday, January 21

day 11736: nearing the end

I'm sitting here drinking Prosecco from the bottle procrastinating from doing the work I know I have to do. I should be sleeping or at best relaxing to prep myself for yet another full day of complete bah-humbuggery that is only a short, few hours away.

I'm close to ending it. I don't think I can take this anymore.

What a waste of a perfectly good life. I still haven't found what I'm looking for.

Tuesday, January 20

day 11735: chain

Back in the day, at elementary school #5, we used to have to go to another classroom and grade the younger kids as they read to us from the Victory Drill (i.e. some strange Christian reading tool where you read as fast as you can for a minute and someone else listens to hear if you're pronouncing the words correctly, thereby ensuring that you move through the ranks of private school semi-literal). My kid could barely read, but the kid in front was a superstar.

I would never had thought of it, except that somehow this morning I started thinking about China, then about my trip to China, then about how Da paid hotel concierge to lend us their bikes so we could ride through the Chinese countryside, then about how we met up with my sister's grade 3 teacher in HK where we gave her a turbobroiler and she bought us some of those old handheld Nintendo beep-beep games and then about the old elementary school #5... and then somehow I started thinking about the Victory Drill and how they thought I was giving the kid low marks because I was being a bully to her, but in reality I could barely hear her, and she really was pronouncing the words incorrectly - which was probably because she was nervous and scared of me, but what the heck.... and why did I waste 10 minutes of my morning thinking and blogging about this in one really long run-on sentence?

Monday, January 19

day 11734: irony, thoust be my dog's name

Whiskey, aka THE BRAT, is a ball of constant energy. She is cute, she is hyper... she is the typical lab and chews everything under the sun - including the electrical cords. Marley is nothing next to the dog who electrocuted herself and woke up the next morning to try to do it all over again. You'd think she'd learn.

She doesn't. Not really.

She shreds papers, jumps up onto the counter, hides under the bed and eats my booger-filled tissues from the toilet. She likes to put her toys on the counter or the table just to watch them fall off and then runs happily after anything and everything that catches her eye... including the baggie of pot she found buried deep under the snow in front of my building.

She's talented, this one. Definitely a lot more talented than the other one.

Tuesday, January 6

day 11721: i resolve not to make any stupid resolutions

2008 kinda blew. Who the heck am I kidding? 2008 really blew. It felt like I was phasing in and out of consciousness and all of a sudden in a blink of an eye, it was over. I hope it’s not always going to be like that, because if it is, I give up. I don’t want to wake up one morning only to find that suddenly I’m old and wrinkled with a thick woman mustache and a lot of saggy things where things shouldn’t be sagging.

There was a lot on my mind this past year while I tried to deal with the problems that plagued me. I burnt out again (seems to be happening more and more frequently) and my old anger management issues started coming out of the woodworks. My patience level whittled away down to below acceptable levels and responding to things in an adult manner became more and more difficult as the days passed.

If only there was one day a year when we could all resort to a kiddie-furniture-throwing temper tantrum, I’d be a much more calm and collected person.

Or maybe people should just stop pissing me off.