Chapter 29 Part II Tasin-10

simple self-preservation On Monday, I woke up early in the morning feeling so empty inside.I looked at the pile of unopened packages in the corner of the room, then looked away.I know I spent too much money on Saturday.I know I shouldn't have bought two pairs of boots, let alone that purple dress.In total, I spent... I really hate to think about how much it cost.Think of something else, quick! I command myself.Anything else, anything goes... I clearly felt the two terrible feelings of "guilt" and "nervousness" beating my head subconsciously like drumsticks. Guilt, guilt, guilt...

tense, tense, tense... If I let them, they sweep in and dominate my emotions.I could have a total meltdown from being "poor" and "scared".So the trick I've learned is to just leave them alone! I block out my subconscious mind and nothing ever makes me anxious.This is simple self-preservation.My mind has been well trained. Another trick is to turn your attention to other different thoughts and actions.So I jumped out of bed, turned on the radio, took a shower, and got dressed.Originally, there was still the sound of drumsticks in my head, but gradually, gradually, it disappeared.When I went into the kitchen and made a cup of coffee, I couldn't hear a thing! A sense of relief slowly spread over my body, like painkillers for a headache.I'm relaxed, I'll be fine.

On my way out, I paused on the porch to check myself in the mirror (“River Island” top, “French Connection” skirt, “Pretty Polly Velets” socks, “Ravel” shoes), Then reaches for the coat (bought on sale at House of Fraser).At this moment, some mail was thrown into the house with a plop, and I picked it up.There was a handwritten letter to Suzie and a postcard from the Maldives.There are two more letters addressed to me, which do not look good.One from VISA card and one from Endwich Bank. At that moment, my heart almost stopped beating.Why is there another letter from the bank? And VISA? What are they trying to do? Can't I just leave me alone for a while?

I carefully put Suzie's mail on the porch ledge, pocketed my two letters, and told myself to read them on the way to work.As soon as I get on the subway, I take them apart and look at them, no matter how unhappy they make me. I really do.What I said is true.As I walk down the sidewalk, I swear I want to read those two letters. But then I turned down another street and a dump truck was parked in front of somebody's house.It was a huge yellow dump truck, more than half full.Construction workers came in and out of the house, throwing some old lumber and furniture upholstery into the dump truck.Piles of rubbish mixed together.

A little idea popped into my mind. I gradually slowed down and approached the dump truck, then stopped and looked at it intently, as if something printed on the body interested me.I stood there, heart pounding, and waited until all the workers were inside and no one saw me.Then, reaching quickly for the two letters, I pulled them out of my pocket and threw them into the dump truck. They just disappeared... While I was still standing there, a construction worker walked past me pushing two large bags of crushed lime and dumping them into a dump truck.Those two letters are really gone now.They were buried under a layer of lime, making it impossible to read them.No one will even find them, they are gone forever!

I immediately turned away from the dump truck and continued on foot.My steps are already so brisk, I feel extremely relaxed. Before long, the guilt completely disappeared.It's not my fault if I never read those two letters, isn't it? It's not my fault if I never get those two letters, is it? As I walked toward the subway station, really It felt as if those two letters had never existed. When I got to the office, I turned on my computer, quickly clicked to open a new document, and started writing an article about pensions.Maybe if I work so hard, Philip will give me a raise.If I work overtime until late at night every day, he will be touched by my dedication to work, and then realize that my talent is buried.Maybe he'll make me an associate editor or something.

"Today," I tap on the keyboard, "nobody can expect the government to take care of us in our dying days. So pension planning should start early, ideally as soon as the income comes in." "Good morning, Claire." Philip walked into the office in his coat. "Good morning, Rebecca." Aha! Time to impress him. "Good morning, Philip," I said in a friendly yet professional tone.Then, instead of leaning back in my chair like I usually do and asking how his weekend was, I turned back to my computer and continued typing away.In fact, I typed so fast that the screen was dotted with typos.I have to admit that I'm not the best typist in the world.But who cares? As long as I look busy, that's the point!

I paused, reached for a pension brochure, and scanned it quickly, as if it would reveal something important. "Have a good weekend, Rebecca?" Philip asked. "It's not bad, thank you." I raised my head from the brochure and glanced at him, as if I was suddenly interrupted at work, and I was a little startled. "I was near your place on Saturday," he said. "I went to Fulham Road, fashionable Fulham." "Excellent," I said absently. "It's the fashion district these days, isn't it? My wife saw an article about it. It's full of well-dressed girls living off a trust fund."

"I think so." I said blankly. "That's why we call you..." he laughed, "the 'office chic'." Chic girl? What the hell is he talking about? "Yes." I smiled at him.After all, he is the boss.He can call me whatever he... God, wait a minute, wait a minute.Philip doesn't think I'm rich, does he? He doesn't think I have some trust fund or some other ridiculous investment, does he? "Rebecca," Claire looked up from her phone, "I have a call for you, a person named Taxin." Philip grinned as if to say, "What else?" and walked deliberately to his seat.I stare at his back in dismay.It's all wrong.Philip would never have given me a raise if he thought I had a secret income.

What made him think this way? "Becky," Claire said meaningfully, pointing to the beeping phone. "Oh," I said, "I see, all right." I picked up the phone and said, "Hi, I'm Rebecca Bloomwood." "Becky," Taxin's clear, thin voice came from the phone.He sounded rather nervous, as if the call had been in the works for a long time.Perhaps it is. "It's good to hear your voice. You know, I've missed you so much." "Really?" I didn't buy him at all.I mean, I know he's Suzie's cousin and knows everything, but frankly—

"I...I would really like to spend more time with you," he said. "May I buy you dinner?" Oh my! What should I say about this? This is an innocuous request.I mean, he's not saying, "Can you sleep with me?" or "Can I kiss you?" If I don't say yes to dinner, it's like, "You're unbearable, I don't even want to eat at the same table as you for two hours." The truth is, I can't say that, can I? And Suzie is so nice to me these days, she'll be sorely disappointed if I turn her down dear Tachin. "I guess so." I tried not to sound too excited—maybe I should have just said, "I don't like you." But somehow, I just couldn't say it.In fact, it is very easy to just go to have dinner with him.How could it be so bad? And, anyway, I don't have to go.I can call and cancel at the last minute, it's easy! "I'll be in London until Sunday," Tachin said. "Then let's make Saturday night!" I said briskly, "just before you leave." "7 o'clock?" "How about 8 o'clock?" I suggested. "Okay!" he said. "Eight o'clock." Then he hung up without saying where the appointment was.But since I didn't really want to see him, it didn't matter.I put down the phone, sighed impatiently, and started typing again. "The best option for most people is to consult an independent financial advisor who can advise on your actual superannuation needs and recommend the right type. New types on the market this year are..." I pause, Reached for a brochure.Any brochure will do. "Sunshine Insurance 'old age' retirement plan, this plan..." "Hey, did that guy ask you out?" Claire Edwards asked. "Yes. Indeed." I casually raised my head, secretly feeling a burst of happiness.Because Claire doesn't know what Taxin looks like, does she? She probably thinks Taxin is very handsome and humorous. "We're going out on Saturday night." I smiled at her nonchalantly, and continued typing. "Oh, yes," she said, snapping the rubber band that held the bundle of letters. "You know, Luke Brandon was asking me the other day if you have a boyfriend."