Back to school
I really don’t want to go back to school. Don’t get me wrong, I am excited that Taxation is the last piece of the puzzle that it my accounting diploma, but retch! I’m sick of it. Plus, my class is at 7pm on Wednesdays, so I have the privilege of working all day and then embarking on an hour long bus ride to get to Richmond where the teacher will try and shove more info in my already overwrought brain until I stumble out at 10 o’clock at night and mumble incoherently at Michael for the car ride home before getting my second wind as a result of being overtired and then bounce of the walls for an hour and a half before falling into a fitful sleep where I dream about… accounting! I’m additionally fearful that this will be the class that I walk into on the first day and someone mistakes me for the teacher because of my age. As well as the three gray hairs that I have now found. And pulled out of my head.
Bleh. In other, more exciting news. I finished in 7th place in my gender and age category for the Timex series. I thought that that might guarantee me a cash prize of at least six figures. Instead, after the race was run I got a piece of Costco muffin and some fruit. It was really good, but it’s no down payment on a house in Kerrisdale. I love muffins.
And the only other funny story I have occurred when I was out with my good friend Daryl and we ran into my aunt on 41st Avenue. I was hoping Daryl would grab my ass, look at his watch and say “Come on babycakes, we have to get to that hotel pronto” but instead he said, “It’s really nice to meet you” or some such drivel. Later on that day, Michael and I went to my mom’s house for dinner. My brother Jay was there, looking like the guy that picks through the recycling bins behind our dilapidated apartment. Hey Jay: good luck trying to cross the border, or catching a flight anywhere. Notice you’ve been pulled over an inordinate amount by la policia lately? Get the funny feeling you’re being tailed by in-store security while you’re shopping with the girlfriend? Are people returning your ID to you with quizzical looks on their faces and asking for a secondary piece of identification? Do little old ladies clutch their purses a little tighter when you walk by? It’s not a coincidence!
Bleh. In other, more exciting news. I finished in 7th place in my gender and age category for the Timex series. I thought that that might guarantee me a cash prize of at least six figures. Instead, after the race was run I got a piece of Costco muffin and some fruit. It was really good, but it’s no down payment on a house in Kerrisdale. I love muffins.
And the only other funny story I have occurred when I was out with my good friend Daryl and we ran into my aunt on 41st Avenue. I was hoping Daryl would grab my ass, look at his watch and say “Come on babycakes, we have to get to that hotel pronto” but instead he said, “It’s really nice to meet you” or some such drivel. Later on that day, Michael and I went to my mom’s house for dinner. My brother Jay was there, looking like the guy that picks through the recycling bins behind our dilapidated apartment. Hey Jay: good luck trying to cross the border, or catching a flight anywhere. Notice you’ve been pulled over an inordinate amount by la policia lately? Get the funny feeling you’re being tailed by in-store security while you’re shopping with the girlfriend? Are people returning your ID to you with quizzical looks on their faces and asking for a secondary piece of identification? Do little old ladies clutch their purses a little tighter when you walk by? It’s not a coincidence!
posted by Duder at 1:40 PM
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