Margh.

Classes were horrible today. The boys actually started Chuseok vacation last night, and just took a brief break to attend school for a few hours today. It was awful.

It wasn't actually that bad, except that I've gotten a big head in the classroom these days and expect everyone to sit down and shut the fuck the very instant I suggest it. Which didn't really happen today.

I then tramped all over god's awful concrete Korean version of Earth for literally no reason. Some woman I really don't care for took it upon herself to check in with my kongbubang about whether or not there would be classes today. This is a perfect example of how, just because Koreans technically should be able to do some things better than you (ie, communicate in Korean) doesn't mean that they will be, or that you should let them. I knew I should've just handled it myself, as I always do, and texted the woman who runs the place in my crappy Korean. Then, at least, I would've received a direct response. Which I would have understood. But no. This woman tells me straight to my face right after having hung up the phone that yes, we were having classes on Monday. I show up today, to the complete bewilderment of the teachers there, who said they told the woman on the phone that they would be closed.

What happened there? Fuck only knows. The teachers were horrified, but I just smiled and repeated over and over again that it was really fine, making up a lie about how I was meeting a friend in the neighborhood anyway to cover over for their embarrassment. Because it wasn't their fault. It's also not the first time it's happened, and there's no point getting angry about something that's already done, anyhow. I was fucking exhausted from not having slept a wink last night (other than to have some extremely bizarre and somehow comical nightmares) and fighting the Spirit of Chuseok Orneriness all day at work, and didn't have the heart to "make the best of the situation" by trying to actually contact anyone I know nearby for dinner or coffee or whatever, and just dragged myself straight back to the bus.

And now I'm home. I've gorged myself on patsobbang from Paris-bloody-Baguette, which definitely doesn't count as actual food, purchased in a misguided attempt to cheer myself up after the day I've had which has resulted, instead, in making me feel rather ill, in combination with the two ginormous cappuccinos I dumped down my throat earlier in an effort to keep myself awake/alive during the two hour night sessions I have now ended up not teaching. I will now retire to bed for a full twelve hours, blowing off my plans with Smalltown, which I've only half-heartedly attempted to cancel in the form of one missed phone call.

I don't care. Are-are-are-are-are. I need some good rest if I'm to get my panties untwisted in time to enjoy my little holiday. Which I fully intend to do.

Obligatory I'm no Picasso positivity moment: My boys chasing me down all over the neighborhood this evening to shout holiday greetings and wish me a good break, with the most heart-wrenchingly genuine little smiles and waves. Even In Jae, who is a notorious pain in the ass. I knew those wretched third graders would miss me once I was gone. Suddenly my "jaemi obdah" English card games don't look so bad, in comparison to preparation for high school exams. Eh? Eh, boys?

On the upside, it's raining! Again! Happy Chu-suck.