you are never alone

April 12, 2007

This week is a dream week.  Good Friday kickstarted a long good week of slack. My school is currently having a Language and Aesthetic Week which translates into a whole lesson-less week. Activities/performances/contests/celebrations have been planned and we just had to stick to the given schedule, which is really not that hard to do except for the fact that I did not even know I was part of the schedule! *kwang kwang* My oblivion was only short stopped when some kind messenger of God in the form of a teacher rattled something about me being at a certain class at a certain period. And I guess the confusion on my face was probably 9.9 on the richter scale that she kindly had to show me the schedule and taadaa! my name, and the list of all the classes I was supposed to be at was all there! *gasp* The best part is, I had a long list of class I was supposed to sit in yesterday, but being such a muddle-head, I skipped all of them unknowingly. This has to score an 8.9 on my kental scale.

Today, however, someone else joined the kental clan. My taxi driver. Not my personal taxi driver, but the taxi driver whose cab I took this morning, making him rightly my taxi driver for that momentary period that I was taxi-ed by him to school. For a start I was really really ultra late today, so to be able to flag a cab withing a minute of waiting was a miracle and I was really somehow thankful to the driver for happening to drive past. And to add to that he was a super nice guy. I mean which taxi driver would sneeze in his cab, make an attempt to sneeze away from you and then still has the decency to say excuse me? :P Unfortunately for him though, (and get! this!) he! forgot! to! run! the! meter! and considering that is something you cannot rely on me to remind you to do, I was fareless when I reached school. And as much as I wanted to exploit the situation to my fullest advantage, (I mean come on, which taxi driver don’t run the meter? It would be like a teacher who forgets her red pen or a footballer who forgets either a) the ball or b) his leg. You catch my drift. ) I really was late and as far as I’m concerned he un-late me. So there, I paid him his dues based on my previous fares.

Its good to know I’m not the only messed up person around here on Earth. : )

 

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