You know those days where you wake up, go to work, and expect absolutely nothing exciting to happen? Yeah… me too. And this episode is exactly that. Spoiler alert: my life is not an action movie. At best, it’s an experimental student film with no budget and too much existential silence.
So, work. Or should I say “the thrilling adventure of staring at a monitor while no one speaks for 8 hours”. On paper? Our project looks like Iron Man built it. In reality? It’s IKEA furniture with no instructions and missing screws. We’re supposed to help with the web development, but none of us are actual web developers, so… imagine a bunch of housecats trying to build a spaceship. We tried. We failed. We accepted our fate.
The office vibe? Dead silent. Like, “you drop a pen and suddenly feel like you’ve committed war crimes”-silent. The air is so dry and serious, even my sarcasm needs a hydration break.
Now let’s talk about my epically cursed journey to work today. Everything started off normal: me, on time, taking the metro like a functioning adult. Then came the tram. Enter stage left: Grandpa with a broken arm who clearly thought he was starring in “Mission: Impossible – Senior Edition.” He tried to leap into the tram as if salvation was inside. One kind soul pulled the emergency brake to help him. Sweet, right? WRONG. That little red lever apparently kills the tram. We all got kicked out like unwanted side characters after 10 minutes of standing around watching the driver Google “how to un-screw tram.”
Eventually another tram came. I got in. All was well. UNTIL…
Plot twist: the tram yeeted itself away from the tunnel it was supposed to go into. I was like, “Wait a minute… aren’t we supposed to turn left, not into freakin’ Fern-Valencia?” The tram pulled a reverse UNO card on all of us and drove to god-knows-where. The next train back? 30 minutes away.
So I thought, why not turn this disappointment into a detour? Walked around. Found some massive event halls and what I think was a Velodrome. Maybe for swimming? Maybe for ritual sacrifices? Valencia’s wild like that. Also, it was 30 degrees and no shade in sight, so I think I grilled a bit. Pretty sure I leveled up in skin tone—call me Toasted now.
But not everything was doom and sunburn! Earlier this week, I had a heartwarming Facetime call with my bestie (hi boo), plus Jimmy and Flo were there too. A rare, wholesome moment in this sitcom of a life.
P.S. I downloaded Duolingo. You’d think I’m learning Spanish, right? HA. Wrong show. I started learning Mandarin because my brain decided, “Let’s go full chaos.” Fanlai’s helping me with pronunciation and honestly? It’s kind of fun. The grammar’s easier than Spanish. The tones? Manageable. The characters? A beautiful nightmare. But hey—baby steps.
Moral of the story?
Never trust a tram. Never underestimate a grandpa. And when in doubt? Learn Mandarin.
—Over and traumatized,
Jacky.
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