Rant-a-touille

It's one of those days when I am not-so-deliciously tired. My morning started with a bad idea moments before I tasted my scalding hot Nescafe and ended with a heap of chaos at home. Dump more mess on me and I'll breath fire on you. I almost did actually when my grandma tipped the trembling domino of my mood swing. No, this is not another case of PMS. I just cannot take another shot tonight or I'll explode.

The fact that I am writing this makes me think that indeed I am an introvert. I have read an article earlier today on introverts and extroverts. I cannot quite place my self under one of the two. Typically, introverts are sensitive, silent shy-types who prefer to converse with their diaries than pour their soul into another mortal. Extroverts, on the other hand are the loud, showy center-of-crowds whom one can get to know in one sitting for they will tell you asap their life story before you solicit it from them. You see, I'm not exactly the crowd-shunner. In fact, I enjoy and bask in the gazes that I get from anyone who fancies me. Moreover, I do not have stage fright. But then again, oftentimes, I find myself alone in the library reading journals like Psychology Today and Scientific American during breaks and communing with myself through writing in the middle of the night. A lot of times, I find my write-ups too personal that I do not publish them on my blog. I hate censoring myself. I refuse to edit. This is my way of seeing a glimpse of my thought process--examining my unedited write-ups. So am I an introvert or extrovert?

Enough said. Next!

So this afternoon, I wanted to browse some newspaper in the library and pretend to be some cultured lady when the stupidity that is spelled M-S-U got into my way. There I was with my ID and library card entering the majestic shabbiness of the Main Library when a betel-nut chewing man stopped me on my tracks demanding to see my library card and ID. I could almost smell that rusty thingy in his mouth that is close to dripping. Gross. I failed to notice, but the man noticed, that my library card is not valid anymore and I have to go to whoever is tasked to do the validating which is really just having the library card be stamped and signed by hopefully not another betelnut-chewing-flip-flops-wearing relative of the president of MSU who cannot find a job anywhere and was charitably given a slot in the university payroll. Alright, fiiiiiiiine. I'll have my library card validated. Ooops! I haven't brought my COR. Forget those effin' Inquirers and Philippine Stars. I found myself waving sayonara to my beloved old, creaky library.

My beloved library. Where else can you find a library with scary librarians, God-knows-where-they-came-from ID and card checkers, and bacteria-breeding-ground CR? Where?

This is becoming gross. I should shut up and stop ranting. Sleep Aye. Sleep. But pray first.