You + Me = ?

1=0.99999999999...

The Present, 2017

I'm beginning to hate this job.

When I first started out, I thought that being a professor would be the next thing to add to the list of things I've been able to accomplish in my life, so I took on the job with a clear mind. But now I regret taking the offer in the first place.

You would think that persons who decide to study mathematics at the tertiary level would have an idea of what they're getting themselves into. But judging by the amount of work emails I get on an hourly basis, along with the booked schedule I have for office hours, it's clear that most university students have no idea what the hell they're doing.

To make matters worse, I sometimes get roped into filling in for professors who can't make it to class, so just by teaching one simple physics or biochemistry lecture, I end up getting students from those courses emailing me for help behind their professor's back. I don't mind helping, but for the love of all that's holy, I would like some time to myself.

So, on a Wednesday like today when I have no lectures, and it's my day off, I can relax at home and work on my entry for the International Journal of Robotics Research, like a normal person. I take a sip of my coffee and sigh in content as the warmth of the caffeinated beverage spreads through my entire body.

I wriggle my toes like a baby touching water for the first time as I take another sip of the warm concoction. I groan in response to the sound of my phone's ringtone, I frown as I recognized the caller ID, and without missing a beat, I answer.

"I'm busy," she sighs on the other line.

"No you're not. You're basically done with that research of yours."

I roll my eyes, "what do you want?"

"In your room, I left my sister's makeup kit there, and she needs it for her shoot. I'm at the center and can't leave right now."

I sigh, "I can't help you or your sister, it's my day off."

"Please. I'll buy you something delicious, and expensive."

I leave my home office then make my way to the bedroom, "you're an intern, you don't make much money."

I grab the makeup kit from my vanity with a sigh.

"I'll text you the address of where the shoot is, and do me a favour, could you at least dress up a bit? You know she meets celebrities and rich guys on a daily basis, maybe today you'll find the one."

I ignore her nagging as I search diligently for my car keys, "yeah whatever," I walk to the kitchen counter where the set of keys lay.

"I'm being serious right now. I know you're upset over what happened, but you can't swear off men for the rest of your life."

I exit my apartment with yet another sigh, "I can do whatever I want," she groans.

"Okay fine, my section leader just got back from the bathroom, we'll finish this talk."

The conversation ends with a click.

As I ride the elevator, I check the address and sigh once again, I don't think I'm enjoying this day off anymore. When I get to my car, I punch in the Gangnam address in the navigation system.

I look down at my attire when the location pops up on the screen. Do hotels have a dress code?

"Oh whatever."

I exit the underground parking lot of my building in Yeouido as I join the lunchtime traffic, judging by the flow of cars it should take me about seventeen minutes and twenty-two seconds.