Because It's Better To Be Irrational With Me Than Rational With Someone Else ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Because I Dislike Them I am not even going to get into why I have to do 60 hours of community service. There is actually no reason for me to explain, this was bound to happen. Everybody knew this was going to happe, even I knew it. We just did not mention it; we avoided it; it was just something that was forbidden to even think about in my presence... but we knew, we knew that the community service was going to happen. I had choices. Soup Kitchen, home for the elderly's, KidsPeace, Salvation Army... Now, Salvation Army was an obvious choice, all you had to do is organize the donated clothes and canned food, right? Because that is what Salvation Army is all about! Thrift shops! Torn vintage jeans! Canned peas and beans... oh dear! Organizing these was my dream! But no, karma did not want me to enjoy my punishment, oh no! At my orientation, I was told what my duties were as a Volunteer Tutor for bilingual kids. Say what the hell?! Me?! A Tutor? KIDS?! Please, kill me now. Simply saying, I do not enjoy the company of kids. And Oh, please, do not be fooled by the volunteer in this whole thing, because the last thing I did was to volunteer. But I have to say, I learned couple things: tutoring kids is my birth control. Kids are evil forms of human beings that are there to suck all the joys of your life. I only need two examples of that: Example 1: For four hours I worked with little Jane Doe on her first grade homework. FOUR hours. She was my first "student" that actually spoke English (although, I still had no idea what she was saying). Ten minutes more of this hell, and I was about to go home when some little kid started fighting with another kid. Result of the battle: the kid spilled coffee all over the Jane Doe's homework and all over my super expensive textbooks. Example 2: John Doe. He threw a tantrum because the vending machine dispensed a diet variation of his favorite soda. He cried, he kicked, he rolled on the floor, and he screamed. And when we were about to start his homework... I am convinced he pooped his pants because he smelled like fresh crap. Example 3: I started believing in hell. I am one of those people who believed that once dead, they are dead, and there is no after-life, hell, heaven, or purgatory. Now, I am positive that at least one of those exists, namely hell. Knowing that hell might be there, does not really make me all that happy. It puts me down to know that there might be a place reserved for me.
11:40 p.m. - March 01, 2007 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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