This is bad…

   Debate training resumes today.

   And I enjoyed it thoroughly.

   My current policy now is to work part-time and squirrel away the maximum amount of revenue so that, if I am chosen for World’s, I will NOT have any financial problems. Academic-wise, I think I’m making good progress towards full recovery both in terms of performance and financial, so I might actually look forward to a New Year in Ireland.

   In that case, I have to brush up my debating skills even more.

I feel like shit

   I should be happy right now, I have the two things I cherish most in life: privacy, and unlimited use of free broadband connection. And yet, I feel like the vilest, cruel, unimaginably evil man to have ever walked on the surface of the Earth. Move over, Palpatine.

   See, right now I’m in what economists will call a “financial crisis”. I’m totally broke, and I mean that in a “oh shit I can’t even get a proper meal” sort of broke. But that’s fine; I’ve prepared plans for this, so I’m surviving. All right, so a diet of bread and instant noodles aren’t exactly very appetizing (or healthy), but I’m still alive — at least, until next week when cash inflow will be restored. Life’s all about trial and tribulations, right? As the nihilistic German philosopher once spouted off, “what don’t kill you will only make you stronger”.

   But just now, Dad called to check how I’m doing. Now here’s the moral conundrum: should I tell the truth, and therefore burdening the Family even further, or make the unethical choice and lie? Mom kept asking about when my student loan will kick in, and it’s bad enough that I can’t give her any (because it’s not in yet, fuckin’ stupid governmental regulations), and I feel incredibly guilty about asking for some emergency funding. My parents aren’t exactly well-off, and I am far too soft to burden them further.

   So anyway, I finally confessed that I’m broke yes, but I’m well-stocked with provisions so won’t necessarily starve to death. In other words, I’m doing fine, and I actually tried to change the flow of the conversation (lol Ateneo tactics). But Dad’s not gonna have none of that, and now he’s gonna send some money later on. Now my stomach’s happy, but not my brain.

   To be honest, I honestly think that I should stop attending international debating tournaments. It’s extremely fun and I learn a lot of things, but I just can’t justify the expenditure. Plus, I know a certain dickhead is just looking forward to get me off the squad anyway, so I might as well preemptively quit. And this whole fanatical ideology that “you can’t have fun if you’re not in a pub drinking until you can see your dinner coming out again” — what the hell? I’m a libertarian — it’s totally fine with me if other people wants to drink until they puke, eat pork or go to clubs every night — but why drag me along? I’m willing to respect your way of life, so how about some reciprocity, huh?

   And of course, my IOUs have been piling up steadily… so I guess it’s time I set aside my selfish desires and not go to any international tourneys (so goodbye, Worlds). Debates are about trade-offs, and this is one I’m gonna make. Besides, I’ll still go to training twice a week, and although it won’t give the same rush as tourneys, hey beggars can’t be choosers. Now the hard part will be to tell the idiots “no, I don’t want to go” and make them actually listen (although in retrospect, after my atrocious performance in Australs, they might actually be more willing to cut me loose)