Jun 12, 2016

Weekly Recap: What Have I Learnt This Week


      You know when you have a plan, a good, comprehensive, well-thought-out plan? And then the universe pets your head and says, "You're funny." You know the feeling? I sure do since I got my fair share of it this past week.
      This past week was kind of madness, I had a ton of work to do with a work-related deadline approaching as well as a few family matters to attend to (my nephew's birthday and taking my grandfather to the doctor's, because I'm the only freelancer in the family and have thus all the time in the world while others don't and I don't get them because apparently I've never worked in a regular job, except some ten of them, while others are oh so perceptive and understanding of my situation (sorry, I'm venting, yes)) so I had to plan out everything, work time, family time, blog time, everything. And as it usually happens with crunch time, I retreated to charts and timetables, carefully calculating and dividing my time wisely, writing everything neatly down, thinking see, there's nothing to it. And then .... it all went haywire — my car broke down and I had to had it towed not once, but twice and all that planning went out the window so this is not the post you were supposed to see, but I'm not stressing about it, no, I'm not, not one bit, not in the slightest. Me stressing? Naaaah.
     OK, maybe I am annoyed a bit, just a teensy-weensy bit, because I had something completely different planed but I'm taking it all in strides, looking for the effing silver lining and considering this past week a learning experience — fuck it, why not. Life's supposedly a learning experience till the day we die if we're not dumb enough to refuse the learning process. So here's what I've learnt this very educational week.

—Apparently, I have 28 red moles on my back, all spotted and documented by my boyfriend. While he was somewhat surprised to find the first one (and then all other 27 ones) there, I wasn't: they're a sign of ageing and I'm getting old, no surprise there. By the time I'll be 75, I'm sure I'll look like Po. You know, the red teletubby? Yeah, like that.

—Mechanics aren't necessarily the sharpest tools in the garage. Two months ago, my car was at the repair shop because my serpentine belt broke (and ruined a bunch of shit under my hood after snapping) so a mechanic replaced it. He didn't replace anything else though, like for example the belt's tensioner, although I'm pretty sure he saw it since it's right fucking there and he should notice that it looked pretty fucked since this Tuesday the tensioner broke as well (and of course the belt ruined a bunch of shit under my hood yet again) so it's back at the car shop. When my car is fixed — by a different mechanic — I'm seriously considering running the first mechanic over.

—An armchair won't fit in my Kalos's trunk. SHOCKER.

—Mothers are weird. My car breaks down and she's the one calling me wailing in the phone, "When will this agony end??" so I ended up consoling her and calming her down, not vice versa. Like what the fuck? Get it together, woman — everything is fine and dandy, I'm having a ball.

—I met Eddie F's former classmate after he loaded my car on his tow truck, the classmate not Eddie F, he now works at a radio station. Eddie F not the classmate. Anyhow, he, the tow-truck-driving Eddie F's classmate, started the truck and some really nice music started blasting so we started talking and one thing led to another and so — I met Eddie F's former classmate. He also introduced me to some new music as well as reminded me of some very old and some not so old classics — I must say, I was really enjoying that tow-truck ride, so I'm in a way pretty thankful that my car broke down. Or not.

—I have to get my ass to Warung Beach Club in Brazil promptly.

—Don't get a BMW or a Renault, those cars break down the most, my other tow-truck driver has taught me.

—During that second ride, I've also learned that kids truly do say the darndest things. "Once," said the driver, "I towed a car after a kid, some 18, 19 years old, had an accident. He called his mother to come pick him up and said that he was in some 'minor accident'. When his mother came, I had to grab her because she fainted — the car was totaled. 'Some bumps and scratches, he said there are only some bumps and scratches,' the mother kept repeating." Remind me to never let my nephews borrow my car.

—Due to all of this car trouble, my boyfriend and I started talking about getting a new car and he asked me, which car I'd like to get — realistically speaking. "Murcielago," I blurted before he even finished the question. Upon his head tilt and an incredulous eyebrow lift, I added, "Volkswagen's Scirocco?' He still wasn't satisfied and offered me his own suggestions and so apparently — because we have a dog and we want to go skiing and I want to get a SUP and we have to think like sensible adults and not like rash, immature boys (boooooring!!!!) — the next car we're going to get will be a minivan, a fucking minivan.

—Real, true, ride or die friends whom you can count on are extremely hard to find almost to the brink of being impossible, which is completely fine because that's simply just a way of life and we're lucky if we find one. Coincidentally, I was reassured about that latter part by someone claiming that they have numerous ride or die friends because, "If you're there for me, I'll be there for you!" and I thought, "What are you talking about? You fucked me over plenty a time so I know that part alone is a load of crap." But I let it slide because there really wasn't any point in soiling the conversation.

—There's a thin line between being sarcastic and being just plain retarded and sometimes it's really hard to tell those two ends of the spectrum apart so be careful with that. Here's a perfect example I stumbled upon this week:



—When you're the youngest in the family, your decisions will always be looked down upon and judged by the rest of your family like you're still some snotty-nosed clueless toddler, no matter how old you are, even though you personally think you've got your life sorted out pretty great in comparison.

—I too can be a unicorn.





     Thanks for stopping by and looking and reading (obviously) my mishmash jumble of pot-pourri-like craziness, it means the world to me. Therefore, you're welcome to pop by again next week to see what's new on the blog — I post once a week every week, most likely somewhere between Wednesdays and Sundays. But beware, I'm not signing and sealing that in blood so your best bet is to follow FPS via email (or Bloglovin, Twitter, Instagram, Facebook or Google+) to never miss an update. Or simply come by again sometimes!




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