I’m bored. Terribly bored. But at least this year, I’m not lying emancipated in my uncle’s house, listening to relatives play mahjong, subjected to Barney the Purple Horror’s umpteen rendition of listen-and-follow-along songs and force feeding myself on my grandaunt’s deplorable cooking. Ok. Ok. It isn’t all that bad. But it’s just that 25 years of voluntary subjected torture is just about all that I can handle. So that’s why when my mum suggested not visiting this year, I seconded, third, millionth the idea. And that leads me here. Trying my hand at a couple of new words I’ve been learning lately.
This is an excess usage of sesquipedalian words. However, it nary bothers me, the capricious person that I am. People might find me pugnacious. I might even become incommunicado. Who cares? I see it as my predilection for revolt.
K I’m REALLY bored nuts. The girls are coming over tomorrow. I’d better shove all my stuff out of sight.
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