I’m Just Cranky and Tired
I am nursing a runny nose as I write this but I attribute that to the fact that we are causing a dust storm in the house (it’s moving day) and that it is 2.27am, way past reasonable bedtime for someone as old as I am. But, nothing a caplet of Zyrtec (free endorsement) can’t take care of.
It has been a mad mad race at the office. I am glad that everyday I clear a great deal of work but also alarmed that the amount doesn’t seem to diminish despite. But who am I kidding? I’d rather have 24-hours of stress-induced adrenaline rush than 2-hours of chatting on the msn to a non-existent boyfriend (below the belt). In eight years I will be 40 so I gotta get all these work fetish out of my system. A lot of people ask what will I do after 40. I haven’t really thought of that. Apart from roasting on a faraway beach, drinking young coconuts and watching beach boys flex their sweaty, glistening muscles, I haven’t really got it planned.
Oh, yes…I want to put this on record. I find it fascinating that some people just can’t stop talking about me and if you think that is my paranoia talking let me assure you that it isn’t. This particular paragraph is directed to a select group of people, whom I know will read this blog at some point of time in their lives coz they will, inevitably, want to find out what has been going on with my life. Just because I decided not to partake in this childish office grapevine game doesn’t mean I am not aware of all you overeager fishwives. Here’s a piece of free advice:
(((((GET… A… LIFE!!!)))))
You know who you are.
Back about work, April & early May will be a very busy period whats with V-Malaysia and all that launches. I intend to take a break, and I am using the word break liberally here, right after that. An island holiday was suggested…snorkelling, sleeping on the beach, eating fresh seafood, singing/howling to the full moon. Sounds like fun. I said yes. So, in about 8 weeks or so, I will be prancing half naked on a beach somewhere while the locals look on in amusement (or horror, depending on how you’d interpret their facial expressions). The question is, Who am I going with? The guessing game begiiiiiiiiiiiiiiins… NOW!
Ah, of ex-boyfriends, not-so-ex boyfriends, ex-friends, friends that I don’t really treat like friends anymore et cetera. I have been officially asked to address this. When I started writing this entry, I was convinced I wanted to talk about it but as I go along I lost interest in it again. Sorry. Maybe next time. I am still in the I-am-not-interested-to-talk-about-it mood. Ask me again in 3 months. But keep those grovelling emails coming. I love it when people grovel.
Of my new year resolutions, I have broken probably more than half of them already.
Of you boys out there who think I am interested in getting to know you thus send me smiles and cut and paste messages thinking that would be clever enough to make me want to reply, well, try harder. Or don’t try at all. Trust me, I seldom SELDOM seldom reply to strangers. Hell, I even seldom reply to friends.
I am going to sleep now.
