I've been craving for wine for some time now, and it's such happy coincidence that I some bottles at my disposal. But seeing as I am out of the house most times, I haven't had the time to enjoy my reds as they should be. And the times when I am in, I am unable to find my corkscrew.
Some two Christmases ago, a former officemate gave me a multi-tool (okay, a faux Swiss Army knife) as a gift. I seldom use it but deemed its usefulness to come in handy sometime, so I kept it. The funny thing with my stuff, I keep it, knowing it will come in handy, but it gets lost the moment I need it. And for about a week, I've been looking for that damned corkscrew, well cursory searches, that is, I've very little time spent in the house these days, and most of those times are spent sleeping.
Today though, I am happily without weekend plans and my corkscrew search was a success! So with corkscrew in hand, I slowly twisted my way onto the cork, my mouth already watering at the anticipation of that acidic earthiness the bottle promised. But no matter how much I tugged, the cork stayed firmly in place, as if in silent mocking at my apparent lack of strength.
After a few more tries, I checked the bottle and found out the problem:
My fake Swiss knife couldn't handle the cork and the wine bottle. Silly of me to think that it would open, really.
So, until I find a good enough corkscrew, that bottle of wine will continue to mock me night after night.
Damn.
Dear officemate, no, I am not angry at you. Honestly, I care too little to be truly angry. I seem to remember telling you that before: that I am not mad, I just lack patience.
And it's my patience that you're once again testing.
Granted, I did lose some of that patience when you tagged each and every ugly picture of me on two of your albums, and on another officemate's photo album. Said albums, by the way, are not even private, and available for everyone to see. As you see -- or probably, you don't -- I love my privacy. I took pains to cluster my contacts to various groups to minimize overlaps and to ensure that information is restricted from one group to the other. And with each and every tagged photo, I get a notification on my email and phone, and it's such a bother, especially that we're on our busiest weeks at work.
I playfully called your attention to that and, how did you react? You went all emo on me, posting loaded status messages on facebook and yahoo messanger about how you're sad and how I don't even look at you anymore. And don't give me the "how do you know it's about you" rhetoric, you've already tested my patience, don't insult my intelligence as well. I know it's about me, and not just because your office buddy keeps on commenting on your emo posts with her own loaded comments.
Do you know what I do when people piss me off? I erase them. I write them off. I ignore them. If they are not in my world, then they will not piss me off. And congratulations, you've won yourself a ticket! And the more that you force me into acknowledging you, the more that I will ignore you. And come on, with your work, and your friends, and your husband and child, you really don't need me to clutter up your life, so please, do not clutter mine.
You've seen me in one of my moods before, and I told you to just let me be, as it will subside eventually. Why can't you do the same now? Especially now, that you are the object of my abject disapproval, and not just collateral damage.
Gusto mo bang mag-69?
Tara na, 6 inches din yun!
You can get your hands on a 6-inch spicy Italian for 69, how cool is that?!
So head on over to the nearest Subway to experience this great deal!
Subway: Dahil masarap mag-69 ng 6 inches.
