Ridiculous

Can't believe it.

It was supposed to be an early night. Some good eight hours of beauty sleep were in the plans, supposedly eased with a run earlier in the evening.

Instead, I did laundry till half-past-eleven. Mourned over my shrunken clothes. Googled on stuff for an hour. Chatted with a couple of folks on the messenger. Before I would peel meself off the chair and tuck myself into bed.

And then, the itchy fingers reached out for the remote, and the surfing started. And stopped when Meg Ryan and Andy Garcia appeared on the screen.

I must've like watched that show five times, or maybe even more. But that didn't stop me from watching it for the sixth time, or maybe twentieth time, last night.

I almost forgot how much I love that show. It has got to be one of the most realistically beautiful love stories ever played out on silver screen.

But most of all, it speaks right to me. I've always thought, I'm just like her.

I could end up just like her.

I didn't get to finish the movie, because I had to switch off the damned telly when I saw the clock at half-past-two.


I opened my eyes at five. Wide open. And hard as I shut my eyes, I just wouldn't drift back into bed.

By six, I decided I should just get my ass outta bed. If I were to really fall asleep then, I would never make it to work by nine.

Googling continued at six, and by seven, I decided I should just get to work.


Let's see.

What was supposed to be eight hours turned out three instead.

What a waste of my mask and creams. I think I am going to crash after lunch.


Yes. I am blogging at work.

Kill me.