*gnashes teeth*

OH WOW. Wow. Wow. Wow.

I had to wear my torn shirt (pinned up with safety pins, mind you) to school. But no, that's not the point.

I had to go out an talk in class on twice in a row. But no, that's not the point.

I had to rush through Add Maths in class, and was very confused. But no, that's not the point.

I have loads of uncompleted homework all due within tomorrow. But no, that's not the point.

I waited in History class for 20 minutes to listen to the lesson. But no, that's not the point.

I waited in school for half an hour to catch the two o'clock bus home. But no, that's not the point.

I have tuition later. But no, that's not the point.


What's the point then? Let me tell you.

1. The rosary that my late grandmother got for me in Lourdes and presented it to me AFTER my communion, was broken. I found this out one week after the domestic helper arrived.

2. The pipe beneath my bathroom sink was broken (the same night I found out about my rosary)

3. The bread in my house FINISHED a day after it was bought. Bread in my household can last for a week (bread can last weeks, even).

4. The peanut butter (which my dad STRONGLY disagree from consuming it) went from full to empty, just like the bread. (We took kaya the whole year last year, so it was a change.)

5. Our underwear had been mixing together with the other type of cloth (clothes, ties, dish cloth) in the washing machine.

6. The house still feels dirty. Like, no mopping, sweeping, dusting had been done.

7. Meals are as bad (worse than when I cook them). *rolls eyes*

8. Food level quickly goes down. Not just the bread and peanut butter, but the coffee and milk.

9. My private items which should be kept with a lock, had been exposed. A low grade plastic maggie box had a small chip of its lid. (The last time I checked, it was still in good condition. Which was less than 2 days ago that time)

10. SHE IS RUDE.

Who am I talking about? None other than the domestic helper. Fine. Flame me. I'm not happy with her, really. But Mum is intent on keeping her. I'll just stay out from her way. *folds arms*

Why do I hate her so much?
Would you like someone rude and lazy... especially if you've hired the person to do the housework? I don't see why not.

Could you?

Long story cut short, she can't cook. I found that out a long time, but I forgot about it... until my mum told me that the domestic helper cooked and I was supposed to eat her food. Making a face, walking to the kitchen to see what was for dinner today. Kangkung with gravy and loads of chopped chilli (hints).

Fine. I took my plate and opened the rice cooker lid. Guess what? The rice can hardly last for lunch between me, my sis and her.

FINE. I took a quarter of the Kangkung. And brought the bowl in front to eat and do my Maths. The first bite, was OK. The second bite reminded me of burning.

Which I did after I swallowed THAT mouthful. Thank goodness my mother was at home. What would I do if she weren't there? I told her I wasn't eating Kangkung. I was eating CHILLIES.

As if it wasn't bad enough, the whole bowl was claimed 'untouchable' by mum after she tasted it. She did not let me eat that dish. She cooked another dish for me. *is touched* T.T

THANK YOU MUMMY!!!

The silver lining? I get to eat my mother's cooking. After a looooooooooooooooooong time ^^
Another bad thing? My sis came and she wanted to eat the fish. Guess what?
The fish was RAW.

Waitress : *serves dish* Today's dish is Fried Fish, sir. Enjoy.
Customer in a steak shop : *pokes fish* HEY! I never ordered the fish to be medium rare! Fish can't be eaten medium rare!

So there you go. She burns the chicken 'til black, and she places fish in the oil. Salt? Some salt for taste? NONE. Tasteless, it is. hmph!

You still say it's not too bad?