On Monday morning, I was awoken by the sound of my cellphone. It was Quincy. When it’s Quincy, it could only meant one thing – the results are out. When I hung up moments later, my suspicions were confirmed. I have cold feet ever since.
I could be standing inside PAAC, having a conversation with her in less than 50 minutes if I wanted to. But I chose not. I keep avoiding it. I woke up late. I watched TV. I played computer games. I even finished a Dan Brown book in one and a half days. After a solemn Champions League night, I think the time has come. It’s momentously disturbing. The revelation could either make or break my day. No, make that years or even months. But knowing me, I maybe even delay the trip for yet another day. Well, I do have the new season of The O.C that I haven't watched. That would take a good one hour to take my mind off this thing. As mush as I try to experience it right now, I could never quite grip the meaning of 'ignorance is bliss'. It's foolish but bliss? Chocolate sprinkled, whipped cream with cherry on top banana split is bliss but ignorance? Memo me on that, will ya?
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