BALDERDASH!

I just love the feeling of having the sudden urge to yell out "BALDERDASH!".

Oh well, it's probably because I've been procrastinating way too much to come up with a decent blog entry, and reading the other mass commers' blogs just made me feel as if I'm not communicating enough. (You know, being a mass commer and all.)

Oh screw it, BALDERDASH!
(Yes, I know it's starting to sound like some wacky Harry Potter spell, and saying it thrice is overuse and nobody's going to continue reading if I say it again.)

We're finally into our 7th week of the mighty Industrial Attachment Programme.

I can't say that I'm elated , or overjoyed. These words are much too happy.
I'm just happy at my little corner, with a table large enough for me to hide under (I'm still considering my options - to hide under the table or in the washroom).

I've only three words for my seemingly awkward life now: Working Life Sucks.

Why 'awkward'?
My sense of humor (or the lack of it, as it appears) has gone unappreciated for 7 weeks.

*bawls*

Just ignore me at work. I'll entertain myself with Microsoft Word.

Okay, enough with the "woe is me"s. I've finally completed my first 10km run in an hour and fifteen minutes *preens*.
And in about 20 hours, I'll be watching Tommy Emmanuel LIVE from the best seats! WHOOOOOO!!!!

Great Eastern Women's 10km!

yesssssssssssss. XD

Me and my geetar.

So here I am,
playing The Beatles over and over,
on my third-hand, plywood classical guitar. In the middle of the night.

Well, not exactly middle of the night...

But I'm so happy. :)

Four weeks into attachment,
a dozen or so new faces and names to remember,
a few handful of new additions to the wardrobe,
and a friendship forged with Mr. Refrigerator.

Haven't been updating much, my English is deteriorating at the speed of light (Omg, so clicheish. So disgusted at myself). And I was plain lazy to update (no printjourn-related complaints and news angle for blog posts lah).

Working in an office is so mundane, my hair stands when the thought of doing that for the rest of my life strikes.

Okay, can't think anymore. I'm dead beat.


"Blackbird singing in the dead of night..."