I had a bad day at work. The kids were hyper and distracted by the snowstorm, maybe. Or maybe I was off my game, for the same reason. Or who knows? A student, Geon-u, told me he hated me today. Sometimes, not knowing Korean might be an advantage – it was only because I understood his Korean that I felt badly about it.
So I felt melancholy. I took some pictures.
Here’s the view out the window from the hallway, right outside the door of the second floor classroom I’ve been using for my winter camps.
Here’s my bus. It went very, very slowly. It only fishtailed once, on the slippery roads. I wore my seatbelt.
Here is the view down highway 23 (looking southbound just beyond the traffic circle), which is what I walk down to get to the lovely middle-of-nowhere place where my apartment building is located.
Here is a little house (business?) that always makes me think about the Boxcar Children novels.
Here is my front yard. Which happens to be a gas station that is in front of my apartment building. And the home to many happy dumptrucks. Though that’s not why this blog is called caveatdumptruck. Just a coincidence, that.
I’m home now. I’m drinking some Korean ginger tea. I’m watching some weird Korean reality show. I don’t understand it. The year will end, soon.
