Workaholicity etc.
Nic's last test yesterday, whoot! Planned to go swimming in the early 'noon but ended up watching The Covenant with Ben. The flick started out okay, but ended up to be like Buffy, but with a boyband. Nyar. Went shopping, bought decent dress. Bought some food and trekked down to the school to meet up with friends who just finished an exam. Decided to go out to dinner at Hog's Breath with some friends (wore aforementioned dress) and ended up watching The Departed. Not bad for a day off work and a celebratory gesture of "Yeah-I'm-Done-Fucking-The-HSC".
I don't want to sound like a whinging teenybopper riding on the fad wave but punyeta, I WANT to be stick thin. I WANT to stop eating. But I CAN'T. And that really. Really. REALLY annoys me.
I realized I LIKE working. I LIKE being paid for doing something. I LIKE being paid to lose your identity and become a mere cog in the mechanism. Especially my sales job. The people entering the damn furniture shop looking for a table will most likely never remember me, but they will remember that beautiful chocolate microsuede lounge and chaisse set and that horrendously ugly glass contraption of a dining table. I will be, for a short time "needed" (kasi nga they'd have to ask me things) but really, I'm just a passing face. I swear, I find this notion both strange and romantic.
Anyway, off to bed. I havent had decent sleep lately, so must definitely catch up now.