Salam.
As much as I hate numbers, but let us count the waiting I've encountered.
24hb Ogos
Dekat tiket jadual bas bertolak jam 8.30 pagi. Sampai di stesen 15minit awal, sarapan pun tergesa-gesa. Alih-alih bas sampai dekat jam 9.30pagi. Seperti biasa, dari Pengkalan Chepa akan menuju ke stesen bas KB di Tesco. Jam 10pagi baru gerak keluar dari KB. Perjalanan agak perlahan dan akhirnya sampai di stesen Putra jam 8malam.
Nasib baik terus dapat teksi menuju ke hotel. Tidur!!!
25hb Ogos (hari ini)
Pukul 7.30pagi bersiap, check out tepat jam 8. Terus ke KL Sentral dengan teksi, terus naik bas ke LCCT. Yang ni tak tunggu lama, bas terus gerak. Sampai di LCCT jam 9.30pagi. Sarapan sambil menunggu untuk boarding jam 10.30pagi.
Penerbangan jam 11.05pagi selama dua setengah jam. Itu dikira menanti juga tu...
Sampai di KKIA2 jam 1.45petang. Solat, lepak sambil online dan makan lagi........….……………………
Sampai sekarang 5.40petang.......... KakZah sampai jam 6.05petang. Tungtang tungtang jam 7.00 kot baru boleh gerak balik Keningau......... Sejam lebih lagi perlu menanti dalam kereta........ Kompem sampai rumah terus pengsan............
Peace.....penat....
Frank McCourt : Teacher Man
Instead of teaching, I told stories. Anything to keep them quiet and in their seats. They thought I was teaching. I thought I was teaching. I was learning. And you called yourself a teacher? I didn't call myself anything. I was more than a teacher. And less. In the high school classroom you are a drill sergeant, a rabbi, a shoulder to cry on, a disciplinarian, a singer, a low-lever scholar, a clerk, a referee, a clown, a counselor, a dress-code enforcer, a conductor, an apologist, a philosopher, a collaborator, a tap dancer, a politician, a therapist, a fool, a traffic cop, a priest, a mother-father-brother-sister-uncle-aunt, a bookkeeper, a critic, a psychologist, the last straw. - Frank McCourt: Teacher Man
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)


No comments:
Post a Comment