I am writing this while I’m waiting for everyone to get ready. We were invited by a family friend to go swimming on their backyard pool. It’s not really a nice day out for a swim, the sun is barely out and it’s windy. I love the sun. I love the water. I love swimming. But I’d rather stay home ifit’s not a sunny day out. But I digress. Anyway, we are still going.
It’s 4:37 pm, we were supposed to be there at 4pm. I’ve been ready to go a long time before that. I love my family, but they are driving me crazy. Whenever we all have to go somewhere, we are always late. Everyone takes their sweet time to get ready. I, on the other hand, hate making people wait. I hate making people wait because I hate waiting as well.
My Dad is like me, or should I say, I am like my Dad. He hates waiting, too. He does not get ready until he has to, but still ready on time, nonetheless. He only does that because he hates waiting as well, especially if he’s all dressed up and ready to go. Or else, he’s really gonna get mad. See, like father, like daughter.
In a few minutes, I’d be going upstairs. I will be staring at everyone and then go downstairs. Then if we’re still here in half hour, I will be in a really, really, bad mood.
Gosh, I hate Filipino Time.