Twenty2

Another year, another chapter to be written.

The tv hosts are cloyingly chirpy.

This year, I start work and the next chapter of my life. Mommy, I’m scared.

Last night I got whacked while I was alighting from the train. It was a really busy station and I gingerly avoided some little tyke to get to the train doors, to face the onslaught of idiot commuters whose idea of using public transport is to shove their royal asses into the train giving no thought whatsoever to the people who need to get out of the train before they can get in.

My exit was not made easier by a clutch I was holding (the wrong, more obstructive way, in my haste to get out). So going against the tsunami of people with no common sense whatsoever who were ignoring my pathetic bleats of “sorry” and “excuse me”, I jostled against some woman on my left, and this got me bouncing off and knocking another on my right.

Woman on the right was not amused. She turned around and hit me on the arm with all the vigour and enthusiasm the middle-aged (or elderly, I’m not sure) can muster, screeching “aiyoh, 你乱乱闯的!” in a tone of voice that would put the drinks stall aunties at the coffee shop to shame.

This was really annoying because it was clearly my right of way. And the asswipe was doing the pedestrian equivalent of running a stop sign, and getting into an accident, and then road-bullying and attempting to humiliate the other driver.

I don’t understand why it’s invariably the aunties and uncles who do inconsiderate stuff like this (and block the escalators by standing on the right, oblivious to the nice clear passage in front of them, and the bottlenecking behind).

Anyway, running really late, and with no choice but to keep moving in order to avoid getting sandwiched at the doors of the soon-to-be-moving train (or swept back into the train again- I hate busy train stations and Christmas crowds), I just kept walking with nary a glance around to look at my attacker, give the one-finger salute, or to preach a little on the idea of listening to the helpful public service announcements which instruct (in 4 different languages or something) commuters to please allow passengers to alight before boarding.

I hope she pulled a muscle when she reached backward to hit me. Biatch.

Before I can finally get my life back; before I stop dreaming about my reports and presentations every single night (highly annoying- the last thing you want to do is dream about work when you’ve spent an entire day doing your work). GAAAAAAAH.

Last paper tomorrow. No mood to mug. Shall sleep instead.