before i forget...
have u ever squeezed a tube of toothpaste so dry, u'd prolly have to step, compress and slide in order to push the last blop outta the friggin small hole?
and when you finally, FINALLY get the whole brush topped with the frosty white minty paste, u hold it up, bring it near ur mouth and...*splat*...it fucking falls off the toothbrush.
cibai. damn sien. have to squeeze all over again. tiring wan ok.
i was so close to scraping it off the ground. but the brutal annihilation of a cockroach happened just the day before on the same spot, i shall wait until the soul of the creature rests in peace.
ok damn this is random. i'm waiting for my hair to dry and a conversation with the nat triggered this post.
and just in case u were wondering, NO i dun msn in the office. i mail when i'm free. i have the freedom to i just dun have the time. plus, my attention span is shorter den a . therefore anything more interesting den the pile of junk before me on my working table will drift me right off to heaven.
plus plus, it's not fun anymore working late in the office. ok i'm saying anymore cos, i at least had fun ppl back in proxi. a few months back i had an interesting figure to talk to in the cubicle nearby...now...*silence*...*gulps*
ANYHOOOS, nat and i were toking about how time just flew by us. like...*snap*.
we were just randomly talking about how the parents are growing older daily. and it scares us that things are just pretty unpredictable at times. i shudder at the thought of it.
hence being the one that's full of utter crap, i started telling nat how i'm currently having insomnia, losing sleep over the weekend, flashes of rubbish zap paste my mind when my eyes are closed and miraculously forgetting everything when they're opened.
but i know...everytime i start imagining awful things happening to my family, i know. it's the time.
it's the PMS time.
now now dun u gimme that nod like i'm agreeing that pms just dampens the life of a woman. girl. shikes i can't bring to call myself a woman so fuck it i'm a girl hmph.
or at least i like having pms-es.
i can cry for no apparent reason. marley and me was on tv just last nite. i nvr cried. prolly cos i already knew that all dogs go to heaven. i switched the channel, saw a random video clip of Mr. and bawled buckets. i call it pms. (prolly cos they were rocking at the concert and i'm only rocking in my dreams...le sigh...deprived sial next concert bag for money oso must go)
i toss and turn in bed. stare at the dangling christmas bells hung on the nettings for 2...3...4...hours until the alarm rings. i call it pms. it usually takes me...5 mins before i doze off.
i swear about a random bitch and that makes me happy. i call it pms.
i blast muse, within temptations, evanescance, avenged sevenfold, the wildthings, coldplay, lily allen after office hours cos it's too quiet and it makes me smile despite the fact that i'd have to stay in that little room until god knows when. i call it pms.
i think helena bonham carter is hot and tim burton rox. i call it pms.
if i were a musician, my songs wud all be inspired by my pms.
there see...anything weird...just call it pms.
how convenient.
don't you love it.
fuck tomorrow gotta leave darn early before i get mocked again.
hair dry - tick
evening primrose - tick
heavy eyelids - tick
i hope i can sleep tonite.
or shud i turn to my cough syrup?
kidding.
just another pms-y thought.