Okay, so I'm really not supposed to be doing this. I'm ten hours past the deadline for filing my story and fast approaching crisis mode. "All the time you spent in the slums will all be for naught. Concentrate, concentrate, focus, ho hum," I tell myself. Except my head, like all the people I know, won't listen to a word of WHAT I'M SAYING.
This was NOT how it was supposed to be, dear readers.
Jughead and I, perpetually on self-help missions, have just finished Day 5 of the Zen-You-Will-Be-Mine course. Not cry. Not be passive-aggressive. Not get involved. Not be affected. Be happy, shiny, people. That was all. By now, we were supposed to be well on our way to inner peace. But no.
We are exchanging notes on boys. Like giggly, teenage school girls. "Don't let that boy get close to me. You have to make sure of it," I text her. "We won't get any guy come close. Even if they hold your hand," she replies. "Even if they make you laugh?" I ask. "Even if they play Scotland Yard and all the interesting board games,"she says. "Even if they make your heart race and put butterflies in your stomach," I pose. "Even if they are all you think about in a day," she vows.
I know, I know. Cribbing about boys is just about all the action this blog seems to be getting these days. But..but...I'm trying dear readers. It's a bad time to be young and single, this. Especially when you work all the time and have no life to speak of. Speaking of, I need a new job. In a new city. With weekends. And a coffee machine. And an office boy. And a paycheck that'll last me a month.
Also, I need to go to the gym. At least to collect my shoes. Before the subscription runs out.
And, I need to find a way to cheer up Mad Prof.
And oh yeah, go finish that story now.
Not to forget, I need to find Zen.
Grrrrr.
PS: Stay tuned, I promise to narrate tales of action and adventure next time!
