Omg. I saw my chottobalar crush today. Like, when I was 8 years old or something like that. Ming, if you're reading this, you know who I'm talking about, right? Hehe, sufficiently starstruck. "Dreamy", still.
Okay *after gagging a bit*, I gave this funny little exam today, where all the boys wore tikas and chameli ka tel and had pan paraag tainted teeth - at least most of them in my classroom did. I had to do math after 5 years or something, so I didn't do it. Anyway, it was good fun, and not at all examish, and very tickle IQ testish (in which I'm supposed to be some sort of mathematical visionary genius or something, haha).
Then I had coffee, smoked chicken sandwich and muffin, all of which were pretty cruel to the pocket and not at all satisfying when divided by three - so I had some phuchkas as well. I was craving for a Biki Max, but I let it be.
I'm getting into the bad habit of not taking out the orange I carry for lunch (and conveniently forget to eat) everyday. They just get a little squashed and funny, and as soon as I open my bag, well, you know. I have this paranoia when it comes to bad smells. Not the expected types - like dhapar math, garbage can smells. All that I can deal with pretty easily. Even farts I've learnt to deal with (there is a serial farter in our class, and I suspect, she sits in front of me). But it's the opening-a-jar-of-something-rotten smell I'm talking about. When, it not only stinks, but it looks - mouldy, green and unmistakibly spoilt. It scares the bejabbers out of me. Especially, when it's something nice and inconspicuous, like jam or cheese dip or uneaten tiffin. And Eeeew. Greeeeeen, Whitefluffy stuff. Eewww. I know, I'm grossing everyone out.

Anyway, later. Oh, and I'm told that there's some problem with my blog and no-one can post comments. Which is probably a good thing, what would you say to something like this, anyway?