Yesterday, I went shopping with mom dad Melle and Maru and upon leaving the mall, I bumped into an acquaintance who studied in Jordan. We chatted for a bit and I excused myself. I couldn't find my family so I went out and scanned the street for them. Waited in front of a cafe and started dialling dad's number, as usual typing it from memory.
Dad didn't pick up. I called again and again. Nobody picked up. I was getting anxious. Why was nobody picking up? Did something happened? Did they got mugged? It wasn't an accident, right?
A stubbly Caucasian gentleman in a grey suit asked me what was the matter and I told him my anxiety. I kept typing the number and in my distress, I fumbled with the last six digits. Eh? What was dad's number again? Why was this stupid thing lagging at this moment?
So I wake up and reached for my phone to open WhatsApp. The numbers kept replaying in my mind and that was when I realise the last number I was frantically typing in that idiotic dream was my own Celcom number. Idiot squared.
It took a while for the damned app to open and finally I got through our family chat group. Calmly I typed in "How is everyone today?".
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In another unrelated news, taking up medicine is undeniably fun but stupid at the same time.
2 comments:
My S3 is 1 year and a half old and it's still 7/10 except the on-off button becomes too sensitive, but that's my bad who like to 'throw' it several times.
Same here, i also throw the s3 around. Mungkin dia hang sebagai membalas dendam
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