Fuck all

So I've been avoiding my boss for, oh, about a month now. Since I got back from winter break and missed two days of work, she's been hounding me to send in a letter justifying my absence. So I did, but apparently it didn't arrive and instead of telling me that, they kept calling and leaving messages asking for me to call back. There are few things in life that bug me more than voice mails saying, "Call me back." Tell me why the fuck you're calling me, especially if you don't call everyday just to say hi. So anyway, last week she started calling and asking that I come in for a meeting. So I emailed her about it, and she called again to set something up. First of all, until this point, she had always just emailed me. So I honestly tried to call this morning, but after all of the chats with Italian phones last week, I am out of minutes. And what's even better, I can't use my new debit card to recharge my phone because I used my old one to do it. I'm not sure why that matters but okay. So I was forced to email her. She did email me back, asking me to come to her office 9 am Friday morning. What a bitch. First of all, I have to wake my ass up at like 7:30 on my day off. Second, she's not going to pick me up at the train station, I have to take the damn bus. Yes, I know that this is partly my fault for avoiding her phone calls, but fuck. I haven't technically done anything wrong.

So that was my morning. Then it was off to class, where I made new Italian, Mexican, and Chinese friends. Of course the Mexican guy speaks better English than French, so it should be interesting trying not to speak English with him. I've felt plenty of privileged guilt in my life, from being white, being upper-middle class, whatever. But the fact that I was lucky enough to be born an English-speaker is now bothering me. I'm taking a translation class and so far we've done mostly French to English translation, so of course I have all of the vocabulary and expressions and such necessary to translate well. And the teacher figured out today that I'm an "anglophone," so the class became sort of an A and B conversation between the two of us. I felt terrible and I tried to keep my mouth shut. I could feel the French kids wondering what the hell I was doing there if I already spoke English. We'll see how it goes when we're doing English to French translation. I will suck. In the meantime, I'll be the three-headed alien that everyone stares at.