One of those days, you know. Probably the kind everyone who’s lived abroad can remember having felt, when everything one dislikes about the place one is staying decides to up and slap one in the face.
We’ll just say that the bus driver didn’t break my foot, that the name of the building I live in is finally going to be changed — finally, after I asked twice, so that ordering groceries online won’t involve a dozen phone calls explaining that, yes, some morons decided to give no formal Korean name to the new building and it ended up being the same as another already-existent building, and that the delivery guy is in the wrong building and the fact that my careful note explaining this was simply left off my package (probably a website error or something, but goddamn it!), and though I had to watch the office people laugh gleefully when they heard that if it wasn’t fixed, food and package deliveries would go to the wrong place consistently, as they have been for months on end since I last pointed out the problem — and at least I got a seat on the subway, so I was only crammed into a crowd so tightly I couldn’t breathe for a minute or two today.
Wow. It really was akin to a whole amusement park ride of the the things here that specifically drive me batty.