Jump.

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falling
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falling
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flailing
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fallen. sometimes you can't change your mind halfway, you know?

Whoo.

I thought I smelt strawberry shortcake in the office, but it turned out to be the ghost of a strawberry shortcake.

Bleh.

World, why do you continue to test my patience with yellow and orange M&Ms?

Moan.

Please let the typhoon come on Monday instead of Sunday so I don't have to go to work. Then maybe I'll believe.

Tick tock.

For the past two weeks, I've arrived at work at precisely 9:12am. Who has the damn remote?

Grind.

I've had three dreams about rotting teeth so far.

Grrr.

Dear New Intern,

In the cramped conditions of our workplace, the space between my chair and the cabinets behind the chair is sacred. It is NOT a mini corridor and you may NOT walk through it. Like any other mammal, I will defend my territory against all intruders. The next time you trespass, I will "accidentally" back my chair into your knees and over your toes.

Warmest regards,
S.

Chew.

Lunch today was a small, fresh avocado and a small, low-fat Frappuccino.

Think.

Time to get a new white polo shirt: crocodile or polo player?

Sigh.

On some days, it's about making decisions that will change your life. On others, it's about placing one foot in front of the other.

Lub-dub.

Dragon Lady terrifies me, and she's in the office right now. Don't look, don't look, or you'll be turned into stone.

Meep.

Insignificant.

Phew.

The mould I found in my coffee mug turned out to be the skin from the milk I poured into the vessel... last Monday.

Oof.

I need a metal rod to stick down the back of my shirt so that I don't have to hold myself straight.

Snip.

I desperately need a haircut, but I trust no one but Ah B from Studio B.

Hah.

Behold, for I have cured myself of the common cold.

Wince.

Yesterday: Why, I believe I've gone beyond the threshold of pain! I can run a marathon in these babies!

Today: Hobble, hobble, hobble, hobble.

Merk.

I think a boy who gives you flowers on special occasions definitely expects you to bear his children if you two get hitched.

Bleah.

I believe it's my turn to be persona non grata at work this week. At least I defended my turf, even if I had to do it with toothpicks.

Blub.

Get thee away from me, pretzels! I've consumed so much salt and retained so much water that I could challenge the Dead sea and win.