I feel like a fake rockstar with a guitar, saying “Hello -insertCityhere-” before words fail me and I have to start singing or else my fans will discover that I really don’t have anything to say. This is my first post in my new Neruda-ish blog, with all my old historical crap imported from my Blogger account.
And what do I have to say? I think 80% of my current depression stems from the fact that work is shitting me. Not just my current job but even my ex-job.
I’ll continue to sip coffee through Twix sticks and try to survive. When it’s all over, I’m going shopping. I deserve it. And then I’m quitting.
It’s Quality Day here at work and they’re having the annual gameshow thing. I think it’s The Weakest Link this year. I decided to skip because I’m too busy
updating me new blog working.
I just realized that it’s been a year since I tried to watch the 2007 show but I kept on getting distracted because of the text messages that arrived every five minutes from that person. It was a pleasant distraction and I remember wearing a big grin that people probably thought was caused by the amusing exchange onstage which I hardly paid attention to. It just seemed like yesterday.
Ahaha! How cliche. I’m getting old.