I won’t go into details anymore (as I am sorely aiming to keep my calm and do things in an ordered, adult-like, and legal manner) about the “little spat” I had with my landlord yesterday morning. Just thinking about the whole thing puts me in a terrible I-wanna-Shabak-technique-somebody mood. Because you do not talk to a person you do business with that way. You do not start a conversation by yelling at a person and you do not continue the conversation still yelling at the person when she has been nothing but cool-headed and civil all throughout.
Insert giant soothing sigh here.
Argh. Sometimes I wish I could run to my folks and have them sort out things for me, but all I’d probably get from them is a good verbal shellacking and yet another attempt to lure me back home to Antipolo. In a situation like this (I am SO fed up, like really), I just might pack all my stuff and move to the mountains to live a life of daily hugs and kisses from mom, dad, and The Creatures— something I haven’t had since I was 16. But no. I am not a kid anymore; I will handle this and I will figure this out myself. With the help of Allah, of course. And Allah’s sue-happy lawyer, yay!
And sometimes, I wish I still had it in me to fight dirty. Being a grown up is no fun. You have to deal with and go through all these trivialities, legalities, and niceties and bore yourself with the black-and-whites of things.
It’s odd how Katipunan failed to work its magic on me. This place is Neverland— people don’t grow up here. Sure, we all eventually get out of college and leave our sheltered middle-class upbringings to make like modern day proletariats and all that jazz. But we remain like college kids all our lives. BAH. I don’t know what I’m getting at. I guess this is me taking a serious stab at adulthood (and being repeatedly bitchslapped by it).
As a shining example of how unprepared I really am to take on adult responsibility: …HEE. My Starbucks barista crush remembers me. It’s been MONTHS since I last went to our building’s Starbucks and I was pleasantly surprised to find out that he was still working there. Nevermind that getting my coffee made me three minutes late for work. I’m, like, still swooning here: someone else had taken my order and when I gave my name for the cup, barista crush flashed me a smile and went “Oh hey, it’s Helda! (grumble) It’s been so long!” It’s the braces, man. The Braces.
Pffft. It’s such a schoolgirl thing to be attracted to.
You know what’s a funny term? Grand total. It makes me giggle. And rv camping.