On the way back from the bank
Today is the day of disappointments and sad discoveries.
I found out that pretty much everyone I came in contact with in the past couple of weeks thought I must be no more than 15 years old. Awesome revelation. It was especially humiliating when the bank lady who was opening an account for me--holding my passport in her own bloody hands--thought it safer to ask (just in case the passport people were drunk setting the birth date) if I am actually 20 years old. Like, if I didn't by any chance took the passport of an older sis to play with or something. Apparently, I'm an average looking pimply teenager. Great. Who would've guessed? I might be one of those Chihuahau people though. No matter how old you are, they still think of you as a puppy.
How, how can one keep her face and dignity, and walk through life with her head held high, when all the people around her think she's a freaking 15 year old?! How? How?!! *stomps*
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