I have absolutely no desire to go to work today. It’ll be the same old, same old: no work to do, surf the interwebs until I’m blue and then go home.
Yawn. True, I do write for myself when I’m at work. But it shouldn’t be like that, right? I should have work, right? Problem is that it we got paid yesterday, so it’ll look pretty suspicious if I stay away from work today, no matter what good excuse I can come up with.
I want this to work. Really. I wouldn’t spend so much time and fucking energy fretting about it if I didn’t. He’s busy, I need to deal with it. C’est tout. Finish en klaar. But I also don’t want to feel neglected. Tricky. But I do not have energy for too much D.R.A.M.A
I thought of taking up a part time job. I actually applied somewhere. A bookstore, obviously. I could really do with some extra money; my rent is astronomical. I’m also working on some shitty articles for a popular Afrikaans daily. It’ll do me good. Remember I spoke to the Editor about writing something for his newspaper? I need to use Malcolm‘s Press Card for free movies on a Thursday – I’ve only been twice. Hell, I could even ask him if I could write a review on the movies and then he can publish it… I’m even thinking of doing volunteer work. But all these are not to become busier, so as to keep up with Victor. No, I have been contemplating doing all of these for months. I’ve been meaning to join Toastmasters for years. Well, for one and a half years only.
Although it is very satisfying to come home and not to have anything to do: no art exhibition opening to attend, no book launch to mingle at and no Christian birthday partay to suffer through.
In other news
It’s V’s day. Argh. At least he sent me an email. He promised last night that he’ll try to be more communicative. I guess it’s a step in the right direction.
Tonight was supposed to be a girlie evening with my spessal fwend – Susan. But I don’t really feel like trekking all the way to her anymore. Instead, I’ll spend tonight at home. Lalita might pop in for an hour or so. If not, then it’s still cool. I’ll have myself some Pongraz then.
And then I’ll spend a couple of hours with Victor this weekend. But first I need to spend some quality time with my pwetty lady!
I’m going to work hard today. Very hard. Harder than I’ve ever worked before. Hmm. Starting at 10am
Wish me luck!
I’m lonely. At work, that is. I have spent most of my young adult life in a Call Centre teeming with various crazy individuals. So imagine my angst when I join a small company where the big boss ignores me. He never speaks to me. Methinks it is because I’m not pretty enough, cute enough or blonde enough. He speaks to the other girls on a daily basis, but they’re all cute or blonde, or a combination of the two.
True, I should not judge my self-worth by how often he (or anyone else) speaks to me. But it does make me wonder why he does not deem me important enough to speak to.
Could it be that he is afraid of my boobs (I like to wear tops that expose my ample cleavage), I wonder? I don’t think so. Perhaps he’s just afraid of my sharp intellect?
That would not surprise me much. Most men do not like a challenge, which is probably why Victor is interested in me. I’m no match for his sharp wit and intellect. Oy.
All men are really big, fat babies. ‘Tis true.