Wednesday, March 9


This cram school job has taught me a valuable lesson about Chinese culture. Punctuality is not part of it. Anywhere. I had a student booked in for a 1pm appointment, doing nine pages of translation. So I wrap up my 11:30 with like 10 minutes to go, rip out and grab a quick lunch of a chicken shawarma and some orange juice, then get back in time for the 1 o'clock. 1:30 - still no student. 1:45 - zip. 2:00 and I'm out of there. Screw 'em. I got better things to do. (Actually that's debatable. Other things, yes. Better, maybe not.) So I clock out. And unless that student has a bloody good reason why they fucked me about, when they book in again, I hope they're not expecting quality work. If they don't give a fuck, why should I?

Anyway, tomorrow should be better. Hopefully I've still only got my 10 o'clock, then I can get home, get more of my damn Sinorama work done, and get some dinner before heading out to The Living Room for some musical stylings. Heading out there with Joyce and Kaori, and probably Black Willy I imagine, if he can pass up the lure of pizza and booze.

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