i just ate two digestive cookies with one slice of iced angelfood cake and 3 in 1 coffee. complex carbohydrates. refined sugar. saturated fat. empty calories. i just nixed my detox mantra. i just know that i’m going to pay for this for the rest of the day.
but i needed something to make me feel better. no one (and i do mean NO ONE) could possibly be as careless as i am. *headdesks*
i keep some of my boyfriend’s letters in my laptop case, wedged inside one of the pockets. there are around four to five letters of varying length and subjects and i keep them there because i classified that place as “safe” because no one ever borrows james. then this morning, my dad suddenly grabbed my laptop case, declared that he needed to borrow james to watch that dratted pacquiao game with his friends–one second before he walked out of the door–and i could do nothing but stare helplessly as i realized with horror that there was a 75% chance that at least one letter would fall out of its space when he opens the case.
my dad isn’t the type to pry but damn it! i’m his daughter and OF COURSE he would read the letters as soon as he realizes just who they’re from. i just hate it when anything concerning any portion of my life that i consider personal reaches my parents. i’m pretty open with them but some things are private–and that includes letters. oh well, i just hope my guardian angel (i’m pretty sure even i have one) helps me today and dad will be so busy he won’t even notice they’re there.
honestly, i won’t even care if it was just me. i don’t mind getting in trouble because i never do (i have this reckless complex where i believe i could handle anything about myself). but it concerns jet as well and it ticks me off that it was my carelessness that possibly violated his privacy.
oh, and just to add insult to injury, i spilled coffee all over my labcoat so i had to strut around the floor in my t-shirt and jeans (that i’m not even supposed to be wearing at work). i could just envision running into the CED in this outfit and getting a memo for violating the dresscode (damn katutubos and their repressed urges for having to restrict even the slightest hint of femininity).
this day isn’t starting out well. =( i have the urge to call dad at work and firmly order him to not even touch those letters or else; but that might make him even more curious. i know him because he’s almost exactly like me: he’d read them and deny everything later while shooting suspicious looks at me for the rest of my life.
why do i even live in riyadh??!