This is supposed to be yesterday night’s entry, again on why I couldn’t enjoy talking with my father.
Yesterday night, I told him during dinner that today I’ll go to meet a friend to take the book ordered to be used in office. We’ll meet and it’ll be cheaper than sending by post.
So, what’s his comment ? “Look for opportunity!”, yes, that’s his response. He starts acting like some start-up councillor trying to guide me to find a chance and capitalize on it.
I don’t know if I’m too relaxed under-achiever or he’s overly competitive. But this is why I don’t like talking to him. Every time I did, I must watch and calculate all the words I’m saying like I’m in a frickin’ press event with media-hyenas waiting for any slip of tongue. Even so, I still can’t feel at ease because I never know how long that “casual” will last, I had to walk out before it’s too late. *sigh*
And I missed the Nestle drink dispenser in Indonesian sub’s pantry room; although I always took only the chocolate drink (not too sweet and not too acidic) and it always burned my tongue.