I’m down to my last packet of disposable underwear (TMI moment: so that I have one less to wash everyday haha). That means, I have one week left here. That translates to bye bye holiday, hello reality of life (i.e work)! Nooooooooooo. Fucking hell, is that depressing or what? I stubbornly refuse to think about next week and beyond any further.
So. You all know by now how strange a character he can be (because I’m such a tattle-tale lol) at times and how I still get surprises now and then. Unfortunately, these surprises I talk about are not those of SURPRISE! It’s your birthday and I’m going to fulfill any wish of yours! kind. I mean more of the Oh, really? Okayyyy, I didn’t know that… type.
But here are a couple of things that threw me off-guard in a good way.
I’ve been meaning to find a replacement for my current work bag because it’s coming apart and changing a weird shade of black from it’s original colour. I did find one I really like but was hesitant to fork out that kind of money for a bag (my current bag only costs $40). Not only has he been encouraging me to “invest” in a branded bag because he said I’m in sales and therefore how I present myself is very important for my image, but he has also given me his opinions, encouragement, thoughts and enthusiasm. That day when we went window shopping to kill time and hide from the cold, he saw a YSL bag, praised it and asked why I didn’t buy that instead. Too late. I know he hates shopping so I’m honestly surprised he provided such valuable feedback while looking genuinely interested the whole time.
Then. Today, we met up, went to two small exhibitions and walked half an hour in the rain to get to our dinner venue. The thing I hate most about getting caught is that my hair gets wet. And how terrible it’ll look after that. I’m ashamed to say my black face came up because couldn’t we take the metro instead of walking in inclement weather?! I had to keep biting my tongue so that I would not make any snarky or caustic comments because the place we were going to sold Coq au vin.
It seems queer that it’s been a challenge to find this traditional dish. Or it could also be because we were not looking hard enough. So he found the place and wanted to go there because I was the one who said I wanted to try it and so he decided to bring me. In his essay which I helped, Coq au vin was used as one of the examples so I’ve been curious ever since. I’m sure he noticed my face turning 50 shades of black but I’m thankful he didn’t call me out on it. Sorry. On the contrary, he tried to diffuse the situation by talking non-stop.
Then, he threw me off the mother of all chairs by suggesting that we take a selfie. You should have seen my face. Surprised beyond words. He, who usually doesn’t even allow me to take a picture of him suggesting a selfie! Wow.
So now, we officially have taken a photo together. Wow.
However, because my hair was ruined by the rain (thanks a lot, rain), I tied it up just before he asked. So our first picture together (I’ll ask him to send it to me) is looking quite the shits because my face is like the size of the fucking moon when it’s full. And we definitely need to work on bridging the distance.
So yeah. This long, seemingly pointless post might be yawn central to you but it’s like striking the lottery for me, so please don’t rain on my parade. Woosah!