Thursday, February 5, 2009

Adults Are Difficult To Understand

I'm eating my Subway while typing this.

Okay. I just finished eating my Italian bmt.

Adults are mean. They won't bother to tell you when they have their own lunch dates. They won't bother to tell you when they are already gone for lunch. When they have other colleagues to lunch with them, they won't even care about you.

You think they are your friends. But in fact, you may just be someone to lunch with when there are no other colleagues to lunch with.


I really hate to work. I don't really hate work as in hate work. My work is pretty slack. And I get to use the computer and the internet. BUT I HATE THE ENVIRONMENT, I DISLIKE THE WAY PEOPLE THINK, I DISLIKE THE WAY THE ADULTS ACT.

I don't wanna grow up. I feel like going back to jc life. Although mugging sucks, although exams are stressful, although lessons are boring, there will always be FRIENDS around you.

Those friends care about you. Those friends never get angry with you for long. Those friends won't forget about you.

Adults are not my friends!

I am not an adult.

Anyway, there is this colleague of mine called Marilyn. Her daughter just got into NJ. So she was telling another colleague, Mollie (the one who caught me viwawahjonging), the stories of her daughter's orientation and stuff.


Seriously. I miss school. I miss clique even though I just saw them not long ago. I miss njcians even though they are so muggish. I miss giang. I miss everyone, even the cleaners. Yes. I miss the toilet auntie who always blocks the toilet too. Rahhh. I miss talking to fun people. I miss squeezing onto the 6-sitter round table. I miss walking into lectures. I miss badminton. I miss the team even though there may be really well-hated people. (I know I've been blogging about missing people and stuff. BUT THIS TIME, I REALLY REALLY REALLY MISS NJ!)

Oh no. I feel like crying. The feeling of eating alone sucks.


And I'm really feeling sad. Like not just "I'm sad" kind of sad.

It's the "I'M REALLY REALLY SAD!" kind of sad.

And I really feel like crying. When I was queueing for Subway, I wanted to just sit on the floor and start wailing. But obviously I can't do that. They will probably send me to the Mental Hospital.

I know I was really zibi in Primary school and even in Secondary 1 and 2. But I dislike the feeling of zibiness. It makes me feel like woody. I don't like to feel like woody. Woody is like a block of wood. I don't want to feel like him.

I need to talk! I need to scream!

And Meowie is working today so I couldn't call her and talk during my lunch time. =(


Such an emo post.

PLUS, the queue for Subway was so long and when I told her I wanted sweet onion and honey mustard sauce, she only gave me sweet onion sauce! =(
I shall stop my emo-ness and talk about other things. I've extended my life for 1 day last night!

In my previous previous post, I blogged about "Those who don't smoke, who drinks occasionally and is slightly fat get to live longer".

I went to drink with Evil Pot last night. It's my first time drinking okay. And yes, I concluded that my life is extended by a day.
I'm looking uber retarded today again. I'm wearing spag, cardigan and skinnies. And despite having the cardigan on, I'm wearing my jacket.

Maybe that's why all the adults went off to lunch without me. =.= (And I'm thinking weirdly now.) I don't wear my jacket when I lunch. The previous statement is confusing. But whatever. I'm lazy to explain.

Photos from Evil Pot's blog.

This is my drink. Sex on the beach.
And this is hers. Peach Rum.
She was fine initially.
Then she became a little crazy.
And she got a stroke.
Trying to act sexy???
Hello friends.
We weren't high. The drink didn't make me high.
She's insane.
We love our hair very much.
This happen when our hands are tired.
There were people around us but we ignored them and pretended that they didn't exist.
You know you love us.
She's eating the lemon. Ahaha!
Evil Pot belongs to the Mental Hospital.
Send her to IMH someone!!!

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