$1.20 of happiness
Tuesday, August 07, 2007
It's ironic and somewhat disturbing to notice how $1.20 can buy you a strange but brief sense of happiness... especially after a chugging three-hour block period of going in and out of classes. And the curious thing is that it's just a cup of bubble green tea with yeast pearls. How nostalgic.
And yet, it isn't
just a cup of bubble green tea with pearls. How cheaply can happiness be bought if it were so. It's the association of the thing to the giver and receiver i.e. it can be anything so long as it was given with a sincere heart, in this case, a kind colleague who went out for lunch and decided to bring back drinks for the few of us stuck in the neighbouring cubicles.
I suspect another reason is also because my table is perpetually in a huge mess and I never seem to be able to find my things even though I did manage finally to get files for the numerous pieces of paper lying around my desk but obviously have not ventured into using them yet... all these despite the fact that I only just moved in approximately slightly more than a month ago.
Anyway I digress yet again. The point is that there is never very many happy things on my table, excepting the twin foxes, sushi magnets and movable fish origami. Er by happy I mean, strictly speaking,
food. Yes, the sad fact is that I can't leave
any food on my table overnight. And I do not mean those unsealed food, because even my supposedly airtight mug emerges the next morning with ants triumphantly crawling in and out of it. Ugh, good grief, they must be my greatest enemy.
To cut things short, my area (and perhaps the entire office) is ants-infested, but my table especially because behind me sits a pregnant lady who has an entire minimart on her desk (I'm not exaggerating here!) So while she's happily chomping away completely oblivious of the even happier ants building their nest at her table, I, the little small fry who sits at the back with no source of electricity or internet cable and thus has to leech on her supply has to be contented with her lot by not trying to constantly eat at her desk, by pretending not to see occasional ants crawling by and by absolutely not leaving any food, packaged or not, on the table, at the risk of an ant colony internal conflict over which table is the best house, or rather, nest.
So the minute I see any remotely familiar alien species on my table, otherwise known as food, or also known as the thing that can give most (if not all) people happiness, I will indefinitely break out into a wide grin, only short of shrieking hysterically and dancing around my cramped quarters because the sound will give the rest minor heart attacks.
Hmm, then again, maybe not.
10:20 pm
クロサギ
