Fuck off [said with infinite love]
Well, kiddies. Here we are. Summer vacation. Sigh, rapture, rejoice. It took long enough to get here... perhaps it got lost along the way. Or maybe there was a hold up at the bus depot. But, as the relieved masses often murmer, 'Better late than never.'
Sadly, my school-related problems have departed only to be replaced by new problems, mostly of the financial sort. I lost $150 soccer cleats [or perhaps they were stolen, or perhaps my senile parents misplaced them and cannot remember where they put them] and I need to put up for a new pair. Embarassing. Extremely embarassing. And expensive on top of that. Ugh.
And personal problems persist. It's likely that I never resolve those, although I'd like to... but my hopes are not high. And even if I reached a [temporary, no doubt] conclusion there, I'm sure that I'd be unhappy with the result and I'd crawl back into insecurity or discontent or whatever-the-fuck emotion du jour hits me.
On a positive note, I will conveniently run away from all this madness next Friday. As Argentina approaches, I look forward to it with increasing earnest; it will be a welcome escape during which I can dedicate myself to playing soccer and say 'Fuck off' to everyone here. Not that I would [I love you all] but that freedom is something that I've deprived myself for too long. And, holy shit, it's Argentina! I'm stoked.
I am also stoked for my job. Spoilt as I am, I cannot imagine not doing something I wouldn't love, let alone some menial employment that I would detest. Luckily, I love soccer.... and I guess kids aren't too bad (so long as you only see them for half a day). Teaching young Buddhas the zen of soccer will be a joy, I'm sure.
That's all for now. Adios.
Sadly, my school-related problems have departed only to be replaced by new problems, mostly of the financial sort. I lost $150 soccer cleats [or perhaps they were stolen, or perhaps my senile parents misplaced them and cannot remember where they put them] and I need to put up for a new pair. Embarassing. Extremely embarassing. And expensive on top of that. Ugh.
And personal problems persist. It's likely that I never resolve those, although I'd like to... but my hopes are not high. And even if I reached a [temporary, no doubt] conclusion there, I'm sure that I'd be unhappy with the result and I'd crawl back into insecurity or discontent or whatever-the-fuck emotion du jour hits me.
On a positive note, I will conveniently run away from all this madness next Friday. As Argentina approaches, I look forward to it with increasing earnest; it will be a welcome escape during which I can dedicate myself to playing soccer and say 'Fuck off' to everyone here. Not that I would [I love you all] but that freedom is something that I've deprived myself for too long. And, holy shit, it's Argentina! I'm stoked.
I am also stoked for my job. Spoilt as I am, I cannot imagine not doing something I wouldn't love, let alone some menial employment that I would detest. Luckily, I love soccer.... and I guess kids aren't too bad (so long as you only see them for half a day). Teaching young Buddhas the zen of soccer will be a joy, I'm sure.
That's all for now. Adios.