1. Go through my entire Mathematics hand-out.
2. Become best of friends with Mr. Nerd so that I can be a nerd too.
3. Print out pictures of NYU and stick them all over my file so that I can be reminded of my goal in school whenever I get bored, which I suspect would be every other minute.
4. Go through whatever Economics notes I got in Term One. But I strongly doubt I'd do this.
5. Get a new A5 ringbook so that I can stop writing in this. The whole point of having a private diary is that...well, I don't know. I just need another bloody book.
Another ultra-boring day. Woke up at 11.30. Which reminds me. I had a strange dream about Mr. Nerd. He was utterly retarded in it. He called my house and asked for me. My father picked up the phone, and oddly enough, he didn't say anything about a guy calling me. He'd usually be like, "It's a guy...!"
In Mandarin, of course, but yeah.
Anyway. I picked up the phone. The conversation went something like this:
Mr. Nerd: Hey, it's [insert Mr. Nerd's real name]!
Mr. Nerd: It's [Mr. Nerd's real name]!
Me: Oh, [Mr. Nerd's real name]! Hey!
Mr. Nerd: Yeah. Anyway, I gotta tell you something. You know about this girl right? So yeah, I was at -
Me (cutting him off): Wait, I change my phone, this one is fucking up.
Mr. Nerd: Wha...? No, listen to me first!
Me: What the fuck? You wait first can or not?
Mr. Nerd: Wait, listen to me first then change the phone!
On and on it went. He continued rambling while I switched to the other phone in the kitchen but strangely, I had it beside the phone I was using in the living room. When I was on the other, less-likely-to-fuck-up phone:
Me: Okay. You were saying?
Mr. Nerd: ...
Turned out he'd finished narrating his whole story and wasn't bothered to repeat it.
Next came a series of weirdness. He gave me these prolonged silences which were supposed to be a joke. No matter how much I kept yelling, "HELLO????" into the phone, he refused to open his mouth to talk. All I got were random, sporadic things like him yelling something to his family, some music he was playing, crap like that.
So yeah. That was the strange dream. I liked the bit when he called me. He never calls me unless he's asking for favours. Bleah. What does he take me for? His servant? No, I'm not!
I need to get out of the house. I seriously need to. And I'm ashamed to say that I have been infected with the SARs paranoia that has been hitting adults of my parents' age. I was at the mall yesterday, buying Slam Dunk vol. 24, and at the back of my mind was this slight anxiety, like, "Shit, what if I kena the SARs thing? I may die! I cannot! I haven't won the Nobel Prize yet!"
Needless to say, I zipped out of the place pretty quickly. It didn't help either that I was tired from 30 minutes of basketball under the hot sun and I wasn't up to walking around anymore.
Oh, and my mother finished all the sushi in the fridge, just because I forgot to eat them yesterday. She was like, "You didn't eat my sushi? But I made them for you!"
Which was why I was gonna eat it today, dumb mother! You just had to take it to your office! All of it!