How often is it, that we're constantly lavished with opportunities, so we seem to miss every fucking one of them? Think about it. That sale on Wednesday. That scholarship last Friday. Ice cream, maybe? But the one thing that's been bugging me, ever since I turned legal (in Malaysia, that is), are parking spaces.
Honestly.
You know that car in front of you? Oh, we all have had "that car in front of me." It's the time when you just have to search for parking during lunch hour, almost late for whatever appointment you're having, and then all of a sudden, as if by divine intervention, the fucking person who cut in front of you minutes ago got that one parking space. Next thing you know, your eyes are rolling up at the ceiling, wondering if you've done anything to offend the cosmos to deserve this impudent fate.
I certainly don't get that now, I mean, hell, it's the only reason why I got a bike for crying out loud. But what good is it, if I can't even use it? Because it's friggin' blazing out there. Isn't it supposed to be fall already? Everything's still broccoli green. Not that I'm complainin', mind you but, I just don't want to sweat when I'm cycling all 40 blocks to Barnes & Noble. Is that even physiologically feasible? I'll be huffing and puffing all the way uphill, and they tell me Nebraska's flat. Hah! They've clearly missed O St. of Lincoln, and that's supposedly the main street. I even pass a cemetery. Twice, if you count the journey there and back. No way I'm holding my breath when I pass it, I'll be joining the dead sooner than I'd think.
What was I saying again? Yes, opportunities. Well in my case, it involves a person. Ding Ding Ding! Don't go too far, I'm not expecting cake at the end of the meal, but I don't understand the amounting fear every time I pass X, only to regret it later. The plan always sound so easy in my head, I mean, it practically pieces itself. In practice, it's the complete opposite. Gawd this is saaaaaad.
Oh well... I'm finishing up Handler today, and I'm thinking if I should purchase her other book Chelsea Chealsea Bang Bang.
Since I didn't make the trip to B&N, the one at the Union sufficed. I think it's becoming a trend - me enter shop but go out with nothing. It's somewhat painful, that inability to buy something. It's Freytag's pyramid inside the shop itself.
You have the exposition: A bored boy on a Friday afternoon, looking for a book he's been meaning to buy.
You have the rising action: He finds every other book except the one he's looking for.
You have the climax: He finds the book he's looking for, but by then it's no longer just $20. It's freaking $150.
You have the falling action: He carries the books around, walks in circles within the fiction area, still considering if he should get them on the way out, which really is only ten steps away.
You have the denouement, or, as I rather prefer it for this case, catastrophe: He walks out empty-handed.
I suppose catastrophe is rather subjective. The good side to this is that I didn't spend $150 on books that I probably don't have time for. But the biggest thanks goes to my OCD for scrutinizing every angle and detail of the covers. A single dent... denies purchase.
If the picture above wasn't a spoiler already, here's what I wore:
I realize most of my pictures have this stoic look, so I thought today, I'd put on "constipation." And I say, that's rather accurate, wouldn't you think? Though of course, thanks to the screeching hot weather, I'd say the outfit would change within the next couple of hours. When that happens, I'll be sure that you'll be duly notified.
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