Running out, you react.
I have since learned that some unfortunate people, apparently, cannot hold decent enough phone conversations without broadcasting it to everyone else around a fifty-foot radius. It grates on my nerves so much, I feel like stuffing a sock over their heads.
In the meantime, here I am, frying my eyeballs out, attempting to concentrate on my tasks, having already worked weekends and agonizingly (and unnecessarily) wondering if “tax exempt” or “tax-exempt” fits best.
And all I keep hearing is a discussion on cheap air fares, plans for lunch, ways to solve some online puzzles, what someone did last summer, wasted movie tickets.
Give them a little bit of work, and they would go sighing as if the end of the world is nigh.
“Aiyah, cut some slack… let me goyang kaki first lah.”
Eh, excuse me. Last I checked, we are not at some exotic beach somewhere in some faraway tropical land sipping pina coladas and watching seagulls pecking at crayfish.
The next day was a different story altogether. Having magically turned over new leaves overnight, I heard complaints – of not getting enough work.
And you were telling me about goyang kaki yesterday?!
It is the bloody injustice that exhibits itself every single day that makes me want to do something irrational; something unlike me. I do not know what. I cannot put a gun to their heads; I am too nice for that. I cannot curse properly; I have been told that I am too soft-spoken for that. Plus, all that still comes across as pretty mild anyway. I need to resort to something. Drastic times call for drastic measures.
Something like, like… #&$(*@#$&!
I want to be an island. No time is as good as any to be one right now.
Do you know that islands can explode, too?