Uhhhhh… I’m just having one of those crazy misanthropic days, yo. I haven’t completely committed to the conviction of detesting humankind yet but I fear that day is near. My black heart is exponentially solidifying with each fool—FOOL, I say!!!—that I encounter. Reoccurrence is the worst. If only it was socially acceptable to blurt out to my pseudo-friends, “frenemies,” if you will, that the time passed with them was more like pioneering an invention that slows down time. Like I’ve said before, I don’t like wasting my time, especially if that time is spent with personally disagreeable people. Analogously speaking, some people say that they’re picky eaters. But more specifically, I’m referring to the absurd people who call themselves “Foodies,” because once you've tasted the foie gras at Le Chiberta, you can’t just eat any dead bird slapped in front of you. No, Foodies are selective and extremely critical; they accept nothing but the best. When it comes to people, I am the same way! Why settle, even when it comes to friendship?? I’m very particular with whom I like to converse. Reason being? In the name of the L’Oreal slogan: Because I’m Worth It. You know I am, and I know I am. So, if I give you even a second glance, be grateful because that’s more than most will ever get.
In other news, I survived my first exam in Paris. And by survived, I mean that I came out of it wounded and possibly scarred. Maybe not mentally traumatized but definitely close enough to recount the story in a coarse voice years down the road to unwilling participants. Until then, it’s just another day’s work. I’m just trying to put food on the table, metaphorically speaking of course since I don’t own a table.
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