The Weekend Work Rant

私は怖い婆さんですか...

Today at work, a Japanese family came in and I thought I should put my language skills to good use on-- of all the people I could have spoken to-- a little girl no more than five. Perhaps the stray hair on my head appeared to her as the snakes a top a Gorgon's head, for she was paralysed and could barely whimper. She managed an awkward nod after I asked 「ええと...すみません、でもあなたは日本人ですか。」

The tension that froze her petite frame infected my consciousness a little later, the intimidating adult looking down at a confused little being. Struggling to fix the situation, I made it worse by churning out more questions in terrible grammar and finally in English until she ran back to her mother.

I'm glad I'll never see that family again.

Maybe, just maybe, she was confused as to why a yellow non-Japanese pig could converse in Japanese. Maybe, I'm just that scary. Ahhh! I should have talked to the お母さん❗

This embarrassing episode is keeping me awake. Believe me, I want to sleep. What else is new? Loneliness? That's already a part of me.

If he doesn't look like Gong Yoo, he isn't the one for me! I could live out the rest of my days in depravity surrounded by fluff, tuft, and stuff, I suppose. Hmm... TaoBao will always be there for me, unfortunately. With the amount of clothes I own, I could set up my own boutique.

What do I make of sweetness and nose kisses? Of bachelors and lies coated in white chocolate? Everytime I say I won't go back, my phone vibrates to reveal the torture that is your text. Fuck you for leading me on and on, though I suppose, I'm fine with a fantasy laced with poison-- it will be the last Gift that determines our death to each other.

I really don't know what you want and at this point, I'm too afraid to even ask. Suppose I should be thick-skinned; to hell with subtlety and sophistication! The crudeness of peasant demands in all its rustic simplicity will surely arouse the distaste napping at the tip of your tongue. If I lose, I only have to lose once, just this once. As it were, I hate losing and I'm far too proud to settle as anything less victorious. I will dance with you, until my feet rot in its own sweat.

I dream of peaceful walks and quiet afternoons with you. But now I just want to go up the hill and scream into the distance "FUUUUUUUUUCK YOOOUUUUU! I HOPE YOU BREAK YOUR EVERYTHING, YOU PIECE OF TRASH!

I would like to say it's not your fault but make your intention clear at least.

Too sleepy. Goodnight.