Ugh!

I’ve always been a decisive sort of person professionally… the obsessive kinds with a twenty-three year plan (A, B, C and fallback). On a personal level, I’m a mess… I should have been born a decade earlier… then I wouldn’t have to explain why I have an unexplainable affinity towards disco heels, Top Gun theme, Fifth Element and Independence Day, George Michael (yes… I do… deal), the Beanstalk logo, Maurier, Gericault, bubble wrap and high-rises.

And then there’s the fact that I can never shop for anything for myself… and when I do buy stuff for myself, ten minutes out of the store and I already hate what I bought. I could pretend I like something except image consultants are so darned expensive… and let’s face it, until I take over the world, I remain the proletariat. But then, how long can they restrain greatness? I shall bide my time… and meanwhile have disastrous wardrobe days thrice a week.

This is also why I shall be looking like an underage-wannabe-pink-cinderella-in-a-vague-semblance-of-an-evening-dress-thingummy for my farewell.

At least I am passing out of the Uni. And the food’s free.

Loose Ends

Having them - a second disc that doesn't work... last few pages of a book torn... case briefs I work on and can't attend... ad nauseum.

Being at one - nowhere to go... nothing to do... staring at the ceiling fan and attendant chandelier-cobwebs... very whatever, if you know what I mean.

I don't know if I'd rather be braindead of boredom or have panic attacks due to impending change. I don't know what I am now.

Someone please tell me it's just hormones and will soon pass.