I hate spending money on useful objects. One of the most depressing days I remember is when I bought Fino -- and it tells you what a magnificent success I've made of my life that the worst spree I can recall is buying a second-hand moped. At any rate I always come away feeling I got nothing for it, which of course isn't true. For today's not terribly upsetting tally of 2,300 baht ex transport, I got eight lamps and a couple of shelf brackets for the kitchen, which in theory isn't bad. But the horrors of Ratchada: so many, I had not thought death had undone so many...
The workmen, meanwhile, have slowed down dangerously. They can't have turned up long before me, so I'll have to ring up every morning now. Nek laboriously built me a doorstep in the courtyard, very neat, gently teaching the mooncalf (I'll call him Big hereinafter, he has a rapper's solidity of flesh) as he went along, which was nice in its way but shouldn't have taken most of two days. Upstairs the knotty fellow finished up the brick wall by himself, none too well, posed for a picture I'm too tired to bother uploading, and kept making the moron's sucking gesture for 'gimme drink.' I suppose if he was a rocket scientist he'd be working in rocket science, and maybe we should feel some sort of solidarity here on the losing side of life, but I can't.
Chang Kitti is proving a whiny, soft, shit-eating person -- oh no, so far, my house, really he can't possibly think of picking up the circuit breaker box; oh no, not the air conditioner, far too busy. At least he seems to respond to my kind of bullying, which is essentially to subject them to rapid alarming mood swings. Since it comes naturally, I might as well use it to my advantage where I can. We'll see: I'll have to tell him I'll cut 5,000 baht off his fee if he keeps acting like a cunt.
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