Some enterprising huh choo-shung tza-jiao duh tzang-huo stole the last can of Diet Coke from my stash at work, and I. Am. Pissed.
Take a can? Sure, go ahead. I don’t mind. Even if I’m not actually at my desk and you’re thirsty, that’s cool – I can share. But to take the LAST can without asking me or saying anything or, you know, not taking it at all is da-shiang bao-tza shr duh lah doo-tze. What the fuck, people. Now I’m cranky AND thirsty. Never get between me and my Diet Coke – that’s just BEGGING for an impolite nickname.
Still tired. Better than yesterday, but tired. Looking forward to tomorrow – there is absolutely nothing on my plate but laundry, and I intend to catch up on my sleep. I’m supposed to go out tonight, but I’m torn between the blissful silence of an empty home and the sure-to-be-fun of Board Game Night. I’m gonna leave the decision to my future self because I’m too busy looking up Chinese swears on the internet to think straight right now (seriously, who the fuck steals the last of someone’s stash) – throw in some imperious demands emailed to me and the fact that I didn’t get any packages in the mail again, and you’ve got a very grumbly Friday complete with a righteously indignant Kimli.