Saturday, October 30, 2004

Some days you just get the unshakeable feeling that some ominous omnipotent being somewhere high up above you is out to make your day a totally miserable and rotten one. You can smell it in your nostrils, that stale fungotic (ok I'm making up words now) putridity, you can feel it in your fingers, and you just know nothing you can do will stop the devious machinations of that malevolent power.

If you have never experienced what it's like to be sitting for a CA, or any other paper for that matter, pleased that you finished writing two essays just 3 minutes before the end of the paper, complete with nice coloured graph and annotated descriptions, and be staring at your question paper when boom you realise you read the question wrongly and all your pretty diagrams go flush down the drain and the sky falls on you and you hear a terrible ringing in your ears and a characteristically unpleasant parching of the insides of your mouth and your heart sinks lower than your malleoli, trust me, you never want that to happen to you. It's essentially a Mr Bean moment, like when you see him gobbling up all those oysters and then he finds out they're all spoilt and the camera just zooms in on his stricken face. But when it happens to you, not funny. Not funny at all.

And then later in the day when you grope around in your bag for a discman that is supposed to be there but is not, and you wonder where it went because it was there a few days ago. Basically you are a slob, and you leave things in your bag without checking on them until you need to use them, which can be anything within one day or one year of last acknowledging their existence. So when you realise that your discman is not there kablammoooey the sky falls down yet another time, and you know it must have been stolen and you wonder when it was stolen because the only time you leave your bag alone is during lunch and during pracs and during the CAs, and you wonder why people would want to steal a discman that is nine years old and contains a ripped CD and the only new thing that they are taking are the bloddy batteries, for goodness' sakes. But if their purpose was to screw up your day, congratulations, they succeeded.

Bad day. The only thing that stops you from throwing Katzung off the fifth storey escalator in Taka is your purchase of an Ayumi Hamasaki concert VCD. No thanks to that malevolent being up there.

Avaris / 10/30/2004 11:39:00 PM

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