Frustrated Inc.

I have nothing to write.

I just had my usual turkey sandwich while working (goodbye lunch hour). I feel bloated and PMS-y, and no amount of consolation will make me feel better. I have always considered myself as a person who’s so sure about everything she thinks and wants. This indecision coupled by sheer frustration. . . is alien, irritating, and very bad for my groove.

[Calling me late at night will do more than wake me up. If you ask me something important, I might actually tell the truth. Unless I regain my control before blurting out anything incriminating.]

And, to finish this pointless post, let me say that I could hardly read anything on my 17″ screen because I changed the resolution to 1280×960. I’m on a digi-masochistic phase. And everything’s white. Except for this pic, right on center (resized of course):


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