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[C'EST MOI]
living paradox. individualist with anarchistic tendencies.
eludes eminence but appreciates subtle recognition.
capricious yet dependable. clandestine and unfathomable.
cynical realist who succumbs to the occasional idealism.

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    Tuesday, April 05, 2005

    Pesky Irritations

    Even right at this moment, there's something that triggers my "Irritate!!!" switch.

    The keyboard and mouse that's cemented with dirt and god-knows-what. Yuk. Now I know why scientists claim that the keyboard has more bacteria than the toilet seat.

    I suppose it's inevitable, that we meet with little things that just rub us the wrong way, but today seems especially bad for me. I'm so desperate to pour out my 'library' woes because really, I just want to concentrate on my notes but all I can think about it how the sucker sitting opposite me keeps chatting and laughing with his friend in spite of my very blatant "tsk..." and "ahem..." and when I really couldn't tahan anymore, "SHHHHHHHhhh!!!!!". I was so worked up I had to be careful not to spray my table with saliva as I did that.

    The merry conversation did stop, proving the effectiveness of my secret weapon. But alas, it seems I'm fighting a losing battle with those jokers. The buzzing came back and they KNEW I was irritated because they kept peering over, as if to see if any smoke was emitted from my ears because of extreme irritation. I can only sigh in desperation and retreat to a pathetic (and bacteria-laden) computer terminal to type my grievances away.

    That wasn't the only thing that pushed my buttons today.

    Lunch time at the canteen always means a large crowd and occupied tables. Theresa and I were lucky to find a group of girls done with their meals and were about to leave the table. They stood up and contemplated whether to dispose of their utensils, looked up and saw us approaching the table and decided to just walk away and leave whatever leftovers on the table.

    WT??!!!

    For one, Theresa and I were not even wearing light blue short-sleeve shirts, so why did they, for that moment, think that we're the AUNTIES that cleared the tables??!!!! What, they actually expected us to clean up after them while they happily skipped away??!!

    I can only imagine myself calling after them to say "S'cuse me!! Did you not read the sign on the table to CLEAR YOUR PLATES AFTER EATING?? You think the plates can walk to the dustbin themselves ah??" That would definitely have created a scene...but oh well. No courage to speak out like that so all I can do is complain here.

    Going back to face the 'war-zone'. Hope those pests have decided to get down to some serious studying.

    [Time of Confession] 2:30 PM
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