Friday, September 25, 2009

remains of the day

Today I spent 45 agonizing minutes standing in a stalled train with sweaty women all around me. My ipod had died and I had no access to music or anything happy.
The morning wasn’t good.

I walked into the office sometime in the afternoon, hot and tired and one of the first things I see is the Shape Shifters butt crack. The first thought I had was, 'hmmm… looks better than her face..'. That's a new low, even for me.
The afternoon wasn’t good either.

All fingers crosses that the evening is better.

I love how optimistic I can be sometimes.

Tuesday, September 22, 2009


You know you've reached a new low when you put a reminder on your phone to 'Smile'.

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

he's just not that into you...

This is a mail dated 14th November 2006, written to a guy I had a huge crush on:

Hello You.

It's four thirty two in the morning and I have just finished the last
bit I had to do before the presentation this morning. Yes, I am still
in the office and soon will enter the sleepy room and make genuine use of it.

There is no greater pleasure than to see your hard work being printed
- no wait - scratch that, there is a greater pleasure and that is SLEEP. Which i intend to do in five minutes cause my eyes are already half closed.

I hate sleeping in the office. I am constantly worried about who enters - Is my ass looking too big? Is it sticking out in the air? Has my top ridden up? Am i drooling?! Is that the Hammerman? Can I take off my bra? Will people notice? Does that camera work? Is the security guy a psychopath? So I end up having this fitfull sleep that doesn't really mean much in the scheme of things.

My boss has a bottle of whiskey in his drawer which he consumed steadily since 8pm... he is now not only slurring, but with bloodshot eyes, yelling at his computer. I think it also may be the Acid I believe he has every morning. He just came up to me and told me he has a nose (which either means he just grew one or he's in the know, i can't be sure)

My other boss, the fat one, has gone home - at about 8pm claiming to have 'finished everything'. He's all about the work, but when someone mentions food, cake or calories, he is the first to get up from a "really important" meeting to stuff his face.

Don't ask me while I am maling you. Guess I haven't spoken to you in a while and feel the need to vent? Maybe it's cause no one talks (and by that I mean, let me talk) non-stop.

Remind me to tell you something very funny about ponies. Trust me its frikking funny. I think the one thing i know is funny. I mean, I know a good funny thing when I see it. Like for example - the Ghendu thing i messaged you yesterday. I was talking about my boss in my head and said he was a FAT ASSHOLIC .. errr..errr HIPPO -which means hes a GHENDU... Cause Ghenda is hippo and ... (it's one of those dot dot
jokes - like the cunning stunt one)

So I was thinking of a couple of more reasons we should get married. One was so we didn't have to miss each other.

Anyway, Before I turn into a slurring, bald, acid-consuming, computer-yelling, work-shirking GHENDU - I'm off to bed. Well maybe not. Maybe I will surf the net and learn something of Wiki.

Shucks. I took a while to write this. It's almost 5am.


This is his reply, dated 16th November 2006 (two DAYS later)

Hey. Thanks for the mail, it's always nice hearing from you. You shouldn't work so hard, by the way.

Ugh. I've realised I haven't changed one bit. I will still be perfectly nice to every asshole that comes my way.
Damn it.

Monday, September 14, 2009

this made me fall of my chair

a post written by the brilliant agent green glass:

I’m going to hunt down the person who wrote the whisper line “have a happy period”. Then I’m going to take his/her spine and yank it off their back, vertebrae by vertebrae.

After which I will dance on the said person's head and tear out clumps of their hair with my bare hands.

Happy period my ass.

damn that's funny :D

Saturday, September 12, 2009

son of a

I had a terrible day at work yesterday. It is amazing how many people have little knives in their hand waiting to stab you in the back. But I shall not dwell, because I have vowed not to let work get the better of me. As I now clearly see, I only write ads, I am not saving lives.

I decided to go and spend the evening with a friend and her dog. Unfortunately, this was the most boring evening I have ever had. All we talked about was the dogs’ poop, why he wouldn’t eat, why he wasn’t sleeping, how he scratched her, how he hasn’t taken a proper piss in a while. Something about ticks and how she spoke to him about barking too loudly.

The dog turned into a child. And my normally fun friend turned into this obsessive mother who just loses herself in her baby.

I was bored, tired and I wanted to vent. But every time I brought up my issues at work she’d start talking about the dog. Then I backed off a bit, maybe I was being too self obsessed. So I asked about the dog’s diet, is he not sleeping perhaps because he has worms?

And so it went on.

And on. And on.

When I started having people conversations, it deviated back to the dog.
Everything was related to the dog.

So I left and continued to have a crap day.

Sunday, September 06, 2009


I’m watching a show on TV. About a bunch of doctors who are possibly having the worst bout of luck with their patients.

This is what they do though, this is their life: In one room, an intern holds gauze after gauze against a man’s bleeding artery until he dies, and she could do nothing to prevent it. In another room is a man who has been crushed under an ambulance, he’s watched his partner die and his heart is volatile. And in a third room a black doctor refuses to stop operating on a white supremacist even though it is compromising her marriage. Why? Because she took a vow as a doctor.

I am reminded that what they do, is so important to everyone around them.

The program breaks. And I see one teenage girl telling another teenage girl how they should wear a silly fake nose ring to their show. But the other girl can’t wear the silly fake nose ring, because she has oily skin. But luckily, her friend has a handy tube of face wash that washed the oil right off and lucky for her friend, she can now wear the silly fake nose ring to the show.

And suddenly, I am reminded of what I do.

Wednesday, September 02, 2009

the shape shifter

I’m really not into office cliques. But I do have a set of really nice friends in my workplace and I enjoy their company very much. However, in the last year or so, there has been a new addition to our little group— a loud, intrusive, overly in-your-face people-pleaser addition.

I know I sound like I complain a lot about a lot of people, but honestly I have tried my level best to like this person but I just cannot seem to do it no matter how hard I try. There is something about this person I just cannot seem to like.
The saddest part is, this person, whom I will now refer to as ‘X’, doesn’t seem to annoy the rest of the group, which is why X is always around—at every party, every outing, every lunch, every tea break and, in effect, every god damned waking moment of my life.

X has to be the center of attention. X has to be the one that laughs the loudest; the first to give a ‘high-five’, the first to feign concern if you’re having a hard time and the first to poke its nose into other peoples lives. X shows off their work— something that I never can do. X never says no. X has also complained to my friends about how it thinks I don’t like it much. The pity vote.

X is a shape-shifter. X changes its personality with different company. X mimics your thoughts and acts like you until you think, “Oh my God, we’re so similar, she should be my best friend…” X has done this with all of my friends leading them to believe X is one of them.

I am not afraid of admitting it, I do not like X one tiny bit. But my friend’s do, and I love my friends, after all they are my core group at this point in my life. I wouldn’t dream of making them pick one over the other because I don’t want to be that person. X annoys me so much sometimes, that my mood just gets ruined entirely. Unfortunately, this doesn’t work at all in my favour because X looks all jovial while I am portrayed to be the moody, easily-angered, uptight person—making X more fun to hang around with.

So I am living with it. And I am working on trying to like this person and not nurture thoughts of ripping X’s head out.

I know it’s my issue and I need to stop letting it affect me so much. I’m working on it. But until then, let this be my catharsis.