7:30 AM Our heroine wakes up, drags herself out of bed and manages to shower for only 10 minutes in spite of her voluminous Sadako-like hair. She wears the first things she sees in the closet (note to self: always buy interesting clothes) and combs her hair in the car on the way to work.
8:00 AM She arrives a few minutes early and realizes that she has forgotten to greet her long-suffering Dad Happy Father’s Day. She calls him on the mobile and promises to treat him to dinner that night. She passes by a Dr Cafe stall and buys a colossal chocolate croissant knowing that stress+coffee would surely equalize the calories later.
8:05 AM Primping is limited to five minutes before work starts eating up her day. But some people are just too inconsiderate and too dense to know when to leave and return later, so she spends the next fifteen minutes explaining the methods, talking on the phone, and trying to greet the newcomer with only half of her face covered in The Body Shop fond de teint #04, unevenly smudged.
9:30 AM She sits amidst the piles of supposedly important paperwork and massages her temples, trying to find meaning in a life where a sarcastic comment from a proven moron could still make her lose her temper and prying questions from a D(but-not-so)OM boss about her love life never fails to creep her out.
This would have been the perfect Juicy Fruit or Jelly Ace moment, but the best she could come up with were three small sticks of sugarfree Extra.
9:40 AM Bloghops half-heartedly and bookmarks a Woody Allen article on dieting and philosophers for promises of later petiks while saying good night to her 30-something baby who thinks a long distance relationship needs a loooong weaning period (if it’s even supposed to be weaned). *rollseyes* He didn’t understand the He-tox principle, which she fervently believes in but continues to break because she can’t resist the pizzazz even if it’s through a choppy overseas phone line.
And this is just the morning. *YAY* to the next eight hours!