I do not habitually bitch about my life, as i believe that i lead a fairly cushy life.
But let's just do it once, coz am damn pissed. Not pissed at anyone specific, rather, at the injustice and untimeliness of circumstances!
My body clock is often whacked-up, and so it was this morning. I only managed to sneak an hour's worth of sleep. The rest of my time in bed was spent rolling around, attempting to stay still in one position and thinking of pleasantly calm images (FFX's farplane, to name one) to cheat myself into falling asleep.
I survived my way to uni after downing my maid's super (super!) strong coffee, which gives a remarkable eye-opening awakening effect. Unfortunately, i became groggy once again at noon and i was hanging on the thought that i could fly straight back home at 3 to regain all the sleep i needed.
3 o clock. Rushed to my car. Was steaming hot like a goddamn sauna that my specs fogged up in the heat. So i winded down my passenger seat window and bam! it got stuck. It refused to wind up any further however hard i tugged at it so i decided to drive home anyway.
5 minutes into the journey. It rained. Fucking rained! I cursed my luck all the way.
Then there were those lorries with their exhaust pipes on the side, spraying clouds of black fumes right into my car. Damning fuck!
I eventually sought shelter in a BHP outlet right outside SS2, after yelling in unadulterated outrage at idiot drivers who were driving so fucking slow that any flying insect could have outstripped them.
I asked one of the BHP workers lend me a hand but that hand failed to pull up my window. Called my Dad who was in KL and he told me to get to DU and to call him when i reach and he'd direct me to his workshop.
Arrived in DU, called Dad but his phone was not reachable. "The number you dialed is not reachable." Called him for 20 minutes straight whilst randomly driving around DU, circling round-abouts, repeating U-turns etc. "The number you dialed is not reachable". Fuck. After approx. 30 calls i cursed my luck somemore and decided to go home to get my beauty sleep instead.
Reached home, took a shower, and just when my head reached the pillow, my phone rang. It was dad, asking me to get to the workshop and that he'd already notified the owners that i was coming. Fuck.
Once i got out, it rained again! Had to stick bubble-wrap on window to repel rain.
Once i actually drove out i fell straight into a traffic congestion.
And finally i reached the cursed workshop and i had to wait for an hour or so for this kindly uncle who repaired my window. Apparently some thingy he referred to as a "placard" had ruptured. Was quite intriguing to see how he disassembled my car door though, and i would have shown much more interest if i wasn't feeling like 5 different kinds of shit.
After window was fixed, drove out of DU and bam! Traffic jam again. Got stuck in it for half an hour, as compared to the usual 5 minutes it takes to get home.
Whole series of immensely blood-boilingly annoying events. Luckily i didn't get into further mishaps (punctured tyres, car accident, ran out of petrol) or i would have died in outrage.
But let's just do it once, coz am damn pissed. Not pissed at anyone specific, rather, at the injustice and untimeliness of circumstances!
My body clock is often whacked-up, and so it was this morning. I only managed to sneak an hour's worth of sleep. The rest of my time in bed was spent rolling around, attempting to stay still in one position and thinking of pleasantly calm images (FFX's farplane, to name one) to cheat myself into falling asleep.
I survived my way to uni after downing my maid's super (super!) strong coffee, which gives a remarkable eye-opening awakening effect. Unfortunately, i became groggy once again at noon and i was hanging on the thought that i could fly straight back home at 3 to regain all the sleep i needed.
3 o clock. Rushed to my car. Was steaming hot like a goddamn sauna that my specs fogged up in the heat. So i winded down my passenger seat window and bam! it got stuck. It refused to wind up any further however hard i tugged at it so i decided to drive home anyway.
5 minutes into the journey. It rained. Fucking rained! I cursed my luck all the way.
Then there were those lorries with their exhaust pipes on the side, spraying clouds of black fumes right into my car. Damning fuck!
I eventually sought shelter in a BHP outlet right outside SS2, after yelling in unadulterated outrage at idiot drivers who were driving so fucking slow that any flying insect could have outstripped them.
I asked one of the BHP workers lend me a hand but that hand failed to pull up my window. Called my Dad who was in KL and he told me to get to DU and to call him when i reach and he'd direct me to his workshop.
Arrived in DU, called Dad but his phone was not reachable. "The number you dialed is not reachable." Called him for 20 minutes straight whilst randomly driving around DU, circling round-abouts, repeating U-turns etc. "The number you dialed is not reachable". Fuck. After approx. 30 calls i cursed my luck somemore and decided to go home to get my beauty sleep instead.
Reached home, took a shower, and just when my head reached the pillow, my phone rang. It was dad, asking me to get to the workshop and that he'd already notified the owners that i was coming. Fuck.
Once i got out, it rained again! Had to stick bubble-wrap on window to repel rain.
Once i actually drove out i fell straight into a traffic congestion.
And finally i reached the cursed workshop and i had to wait for an hour or so for this kindly uncle who repaired my window. Apparently some thingy he referred to as a "placard" had ruptured. Was quite intriguing to see how he disassembled my car door though, and i would have shown much more interest if i wasn't feeling like 5 different kinds of shit.
After window was fixed, drove out of DU and bam! Traffic jam again. Got stuck in it for half an hour, as compared to the usual 5 minutes it takes to get home.
Whole series of immensely blood-boilingly annoying events. Luckily i didn't get into further mishaps (punctured tyres, car accident, ran out of petrol) or i would have died in outrage.
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