Thank Nokia for the radio feature on my phone. It keeps me from downing buckets of coffee and picking at my cuticles.
I'm booored. Besides mutilitating my fingers, I've taken to threading through my hair, looking for dead (well, double-dead) strands and plucking them out. Seriously. I've been doing it for days, it doesn't even hurt that much anymore. I've read and reread blog entries, searched names on Google, learned that Scott Moffatt has a new aldum out and that Bob and Clint live in Thailand now. Egad I'm regressing!
So this is corporate life huh. My back hurts from sitting in a chair pretending to be ergonomic, I got nowhere to eat (I'm deathly afraid of Jollijeep, especially since I was confined for typhoid fever not so long ago, and because I was raised praning), and it seems no one in our office takes merienda. I'm not a big rice eater but I do like merienda.
I know this griping will boomerang, probably next week when my boss returns from the hospital and swamps me with work. I predict that by then my life would spin out of control.
Loving life and getting it order are two different things. I hope the window of opportunity I have right now to "run around" won't haunt me in the future. Under normal circumstances this would be called "spreading myself too thin." The result could only be haphazard work.
Shit. I just realized the world could very well come crashing down, any moment now.
But I'm hungry na. The world will have to wait!
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