was walking up the stairs of the overhead bridge behind a eurasian neighbour on the way home. the moment i looked up, her flabby fanny was flashing at me, blinding the lights out of me.
cant she at least look into the mirror before she goes out? the dress was so obscenely short that i swear its not any longer than my primary 1 pinafore! and sitting on the bus doesnt exactly make your crumpled flare dress hide those hideous buttocks any better, unless it were on purpose.
i cant imagine the logic that goes through skanks’ heads everytime they get dressed. making a fashion statement is one thing, flashing others is another, and having fat buttocks makes it absolutely unforgivable.
actually im quite sure that today is the routine once-a-month major PMS day. felt so irritated when having to teach ppt to a colleague that would be taking over that segment of my duties when i leave for uni in 2 months time.
seriously, it wasnt that hard lor. i learnt everything by myself through experimentation. they just plopped me the figures and told me to do something about it. but i tried my hardest to be patient with her, as i remember i once subjected my mother to the torture of having to teach me how to write chinese words.
actually come to think of it, i think i was the more tortured one, considering she taught me with a cane and kept making me rub away the words until i wrote them perfectly. haha then if i rubbed so hard till there was a hole in the page, she’d scold me.
happy mothers day right, if not for her i wouldnt have such neat chinese handwriting. har har.
but whatever, i couldnt use the 30cm ruler and start hitting my colleague if she was too slow right?
so i endureddddd and persevereeddddd. and when she went away to do something else, i hurridly finished up the rest of the presentation by myself. HAH! then when she finally came back, i told her it was done, and she looked so disappointed that i kind of felt bad about it- like i would if i was supposed to bring my daughter to the zoo and ended up going there by myself.
its strange how at the end of pms days, i feel completely bad about what ive done, yet believe that all that was necessary. after all, you only need to tolerate my horrid temper once a month right?
well now im angry about something else. its simply made up of the words, ‘matin’, ‘stolen rifle’ and ‘confinement’