The 45-Minute Grill

What better way to start Friday than to be grilled by two English speaking ladies, one Chinese, the other Indian.

They were probing on my past and were peeking at my future.

I can’t help but wonder, would it help if I tell them that I am a repressed OC? Then again, it wouldn’t be repressed if admit to it, right?

I was pinned on a posture chair but a conference table protected me from them. The slowly ticking clock and their endless questions are enough to drive me to instant paralysis. However a part of me, maybe the sadistic part, enjoys the talk show-like torture. And so I survived.

But even then, I have to wait for the day when they’d say I am done.