This morning, I really looked like a jobless teacher. I had to wear a semi-formal attire for our defense in Physics 73.1, so I borrowed mama's slacks and leather sandals. I intended to look like a classy sophisticated CEO, but I ended up wearing a too prim-and-proper canary yellow blouse and mama's very awkward slacks. And to think that I had to carry my bulky (but comfy) Jansport backpack?! Oh, the horror! It really was a fashion suicide.
On the bright side, our group did well because the panelists had almost nothing to say after our presentation, and we were able to answer all of their questions precisely and credibly. It was good to think that everything paid off, and I can finally sleep well tonight (finally!).
Me: You know, you shouldn't blame me if the container fell off the chair...
Isaac: No way. I didn't even touch it, and you obviously slammed it with your fan.
Me: I mean...
Isaac: Not my fault at all. You pick it up.
Me: No. I won't pick it up...
Isaac: You pick it up!
Me: No, it's not entirely my fault! Blame Gravity, the chair, the fan, the wind...! It was a natural accident.
I also told him about my thought that a poor kid cannot blame his parents of why he is poor. If he has to blame his parents, he might as well blame his grandparents and world war 2 (assuming that his grandparents weren't able to study and be successful because of world war 2) and the government and the market and the people who invented the gun and armors and... ya,you get the point.
I mean, pointing fingers is a no-win solution. It is a vicious cycle that hurt people mercilessly and blow things out of proportion. There are better and far more productive ways to handle the situation. After all, it is a coward child's game. Let's just all be mature and responsible.
Good night.
