Could it get any worse? #$@#^&*
Today sucked. Big time.
I don’t remember if I’ve ever cribbed here abt such things but today was so depressing that I have to write it here… spread the bad word, they always said.
I work into the wee hours of the morning trying to get some results to show at the weekly meeting with my advisor. I get some graphs, with results difficult to explain. I call it a day (or night) and head home. Wake up at 1 in the afternoon with a mail in the inbox informing me of a 2 pm meeting. A quick bath and a sandwich later, I am at the bus stop waiting for the sole bus to my place of work.
I realize what could be wrong with last night’s results. With the bus no-where in sight, I boot the laptop and start hacking then and there. Fifteen minutes later, neither results nor the bus in sight. At 1:55 pm I flag a cab and reach BII at 2:05. Then starts the running around the office routine ‘cos apparently the meeting room is changed. This fucking place has more meeting rooms than offices.
After a long and mostly pointless meeting, I head out to grab some food. Reheated ‘briyani’ and left over curry. Great.
Back to the cubicle. Someone tells some form needs to be turned in tomorrow. More running around to get signatures.
Need some prints; the printer’s got his Monday blues too.
A class at 9pm and a headache right now. Ditch the class, head home.
Reach home at 7pm. Decide now would be the time to finally get that long overdue haircut. Bad decision.
The barber is some moron who’s stinking of cigs and god knows what else. I tell him how I want it cut. He pretends to understand. I don’t realize then that he’s just pretending. He proceeds with his instruments.
Half way through, there’s some kind of news flash on the Malay channel which I don’t understand. But the flash is flashy enought to zap the dude into a 2 minute long stupor. While I fight my drowsiness, he stands like the merlion looking at the boobtube.
He resumes his work, coupled with a monologue in Malay, presumably on what he just heard but oblivious to the fact that I don’t understand one freaking word of what he’s saying.
Job done. I look at myself. This is it. This is the one. This is the worst haircut I’ve ever got. I look like I had got my head shaven a week ago and now there’s a nice grassland on it. Except grasslands don’t look good on heads… not on my head at any rate.
I turn to face him with a look which has him involuntarily saying, ‘Sorry’. Sorry!! Freaking I have to walk around with this now, not you!!
I decide to grab some food and head home asap, before anyone sees me. The western restaurant serving pasta and pizzas among other things has decided for an overnight overhaul of the menu. I have to order fried rice minus the prawns and the oysters and the whatever else that once used to move.
So here I am. At home, contemplating camping here for the next two weeks till I start looking something other than a dorked out zombie.
except there’s a class tomorrow morning.