Mom: Are you coming back late?
Justin: I'm coming back drunk.
Thus began my day of difference.
I went to art friend to become a friend of art friend.
Friend of Art Friend. Friend of Art Friend
I also bought a lot of paint, brushes, varnish and a big canvas.
Then off to Zhi Han's house where together with Jia Yan we did painting.
Only Justin can buy art materials for a girl's birthday and make her paint her own present.
But oh how beautiful it was!
She chose the picture of a sunset, and the blending brush made quick work of the beautiful yellow, orange, red and purple blend.
We only completed the background, but it's awesome nonetheless.
Till next time.
Then I went for a farewell party for my religion prof.
It was the most meaningful party I've ever attended.
Our prof didn't want to uproot, but didn't have much of a choice.
Kudos to the beautiful girl in my course who saw how we could encourage him and organised the whole party.
The professor later said how he really needed this.
He's not one who cares about grades, but about influencing lives.
And seeing how we bothered, he was so moved.
It was his first post module party ever.
And he shared a story I'll remember.
He got his PHD, he celebrated, and then he was jobless for months.
Rejection letter after rejection letter.
He had the option of going into banking, but if he did he knew all his studies would come to an end and he would stop reading and writing academically.
You can't eat your PHD for a living.
So he went for the next best job.
That of a toilet cleaner.
It would give him cash to live on, and time to continue reading and writing.
There was a tough interview for the job, but by sheer deduction and the power of sociological observation, he came out tops in the interview.
Then he began work.
*WARNING - GRAPHIC CONTENT AHEAD*
In those days there was no sanitary pad bin, so there was blood everywhere in the women's restroom.
He said how he was happy to see shit for the first time in his life coz he was traumatised by the sight of blood.
Oh and in Italy, he got commission for cleaning especially dirty cubicles.
So he's happy to see more... crap.
Anyway, he was fascinated at work.
Why is it women's toilet dustbins were full of paper while men's remained empty.
After further observation he figured... Men just cough out loud. Women use tissue.
And his anthropological mind lighted up.
He began observing morals and manners in the bathroom.
Like... why would people write on walls in cubicles?
Toilets are places of liberation.
In more ways than one.
Here you are alone, you're relieved, and you're sometimes inspired.
And thus you write on walls.
So my lecturer began studying these wall paintings anthropologically, as he cleaned them off.
He wrote all of them down, and wrote a book on it.
That book landed him his first lecturing job, and the rest was history.
For me, a university student trying to earn a humble living by cleaning toilets, he was an absolute inspiration.
Now please, hire me.
Justin: I'm coming back drunk.
Thus began my day of difference.
I went to art friend to become a friend of art friend.
Friend of Art Friend. Friend of Art Friend
I also bought a lot of paint, brushes, varnish and a big canvas.
Then off to Zhi Han's house where together with Jia Yan we did painting.
Only Justin can buy art materials for a girl's birthday and make her paint her own present.
But oh how beautiful it was!
She chose the picture of a sunset, and the blending brush made quick work of the beautiful yellow, orange, red and purple blend.
We only completed the background, but it's awesome nonetheless.
Till next time.
Then I went for a farewell party for my religion prof.
It was the most meaningful party I've ever attended.
Our prof didn't want to uproot, but didn't have much of a choice.
Kudos to the beautiful girl in my course who saw how we could encourage him and organised the whole party.
The professor later said how he really needed this.
He's not one who cares about grades, but about influencing lives.
And seeing how we bothered, he was so moved.
It was his first post module party ever.
And he shared a story I'll remember.
He got his PHD, he celebrated, and then he was jobless for months.
Rejection letter after rejection letter.
He had the option of going into banking, but if he did he knew all his studies would come to an end and he would stop reading and writing academically.
You can't eat your PHD for a living.
So he went for the next best job.
That of a toilet cleaner.
It would give him cash to live on, and time to continue reading and writing.
There was a tough interview for the job, but by sheer deduction and the power of sociological observation, he came out tops in the interview.
Then he began work.
*WARNING - GRAPHIC CONTENT AHEAD*
In those days there was no sanitary pad bin, so there was blood everywhere in the women's restroom.
He said how he was happy to see shit for the first time in his life coz he was traumatised by the sight of blood.
Oh and in Italy, he got commission for cleaning especially dirty cubicles.
So he's happy to see more... crap.
Anyway, he was fascinated at work.
Why is it women's toilet dustbins were full of paper while men's remained empty.
After further observation he figured... Men just cough out loud. Women use tissue.
And his anthropological mind lighted up.
He began observing morals and manners in the bathroom.
Like... why would people write on walls in cubicles?
Toilets are places of liberation.
In more ways than one.
Here you are alone, you're relieved, and you're sometimes inspired.
And thus you write on walls.
So my lecturer began studying these wall paintings anthropologically, as he cleaned them off.
He wrote all of them down, and wrote a book on it.
That book landed him his first lecturing job, and the rest was history.
For me, a university student trying to earn a humble living by cleaning toilets, he was an absolute inspiration.
Now please, hire me.
