I ate nothing of consequence the whole day: assorted Christmas cookies (chock-full of trans-fatty acids), chocolate Hugs, pizza, desserts I cannot pronounce, etc. By the end of the workday, the sugar-high was nearing dangerous levels. If I didn’t have Jeremy to play and throw paper planes with, I probably wouldn’t have survived. (Tita Vil nearly popped a vein while scolding us.)
I need to sleep but I can’t yet because I promised my co-workers that I’d bake them more goodies. *sigh* And I’m still icing the cake. If someone told me two years ago that I’d be baking edible stuff, I’d have shot him for Heresy.
And, finally, now that it’s Christmas, I would like to thank:
- My friends and my loved ones who have so patiently and kindly borne this godawful year with me and listened whenever tragedy struck and I needed a willing ear to scream to even at 3am.
- My very close friends who never tire of giving me advices I never follow, and for making me laugh even when nothing’s remotely funny.
- Dad for being crazy enough to have a crazier daughter and accept it as a fact of life. And Mom for not saying anything during the most crucial moments.
- European designers for knowing how to make 5 pounds disappear like magic.
- My current department for giving me a raise and for putting up with my idiosyncrasies.
- Google for making Gmail.
- Lipton for releasing Russian Earl Grey tea into the market.
- Friendster for being such a hotbed of chika and a serviceable boredom substitute.
- My SFC sisters for being the Ate’s I never had.
- To everyone who shared something important for them with me. Thanks for the trust and for your time.
- And, last but not the least, to God for considering me significant enough to keep alive for another year.