The One With Gray Trudges In Black & White
*bzzz*
I blinked. Someone got to wishing goodmorning before i did today. Should get up and start getting mane tamed. And get tea ready before that lack of caffeination headache creeps in. And do white laundry.
But i don't.
The slob in me decided we were very tired. And that there was something slightly more important than getting ourselves cleaned up to look less monstrous. Instead the little train of thought came choo-choo-ing in and we unwittingly climbed on board.
There weren't many stops to begin with. It was like a tiny town - with only 16 years in existence - so there weren't many choices. So let's just try whatever there is. The first one was unavoidable. Our little train's been favouring this stop more than the others for the past few weeks. Probably because what was to be built on this spot is gonna be decided soon. Or at least - hopefully soon.
I stare blankly as i played through all the images of suggestions. Right now there were three main choices. Or three that i didn't mind.
The first one's been around since a decade ago. And probably the one everyone'd think is least suitable to be chosen. It revolves around superficiality and doesn't necessarily takes brains but does call for the inner bitch of any girl to make its debut one way or another. I'd get to ogle peep-toes, skinny jeans and tunics on a daily basis though. I would really like to just dive in head-first and do the thing i'm ironically in love with - despite being a nerd and all - but i know i can't. Because it takes more than just ambition and foresight and watching one too many ANTM episodes for this.
I frowned a little. Okay so i'm not ready for this yet - next option.
This one's been the answer i've been dishing out everytime interrogation on the career/college front comes about. Just like the former, this one requires a girl to be a bitch more often than she'd like. Starting to think it'd be alot easier if i were one of those. But then again - no. Just not the type who'd flaunt what (and who) they've done all over cyberspace to decrease whatever morsels of dignity they've left.
Anyway the second choice involves deadlines, freebies, odd hours, people and writing. The only thing i've got going is the latter. And somehow showing up for an interview with, 'I love writing' sounds too unconvincing. Not particularly good with people or deadlines. Especially not people. But given how recently a tiny - microscopic - part of the pessimist in me have considered converting to optimism - this option is gonna clash with it all.
Then comes the last. It's safe and it doesn't need much working with people which i found out lately i'm allergic to. I won't be working with people but more like working on people. And it's like playing Aunt Agony to a bunch of 'em everyday just that i might come in contact with the occasional nutbag.
I blinked. Someone got to wishing goodmorning before i did today. Should get up and start getting mane tamed. And get tea ready before that lack of caffeination headache creeps in. And do white laundry.
But i don't.
The slob in me decided we were very tired. And that there was something slightly more important than getting ourselves cleaned up to look less monstrous. Instead the little train of thought came choo-choo-ing in and we unwittingly climbed on board.
There weren't many stops to begin with. It was like a tiny town - with only 16 years in existence - so there weren't many choices. So let's just try whatever there is. The first one was unavoidable. Our little train's been favouring this stop more than the others for the past few weeks. Probably because what was to be built on this spot is gonna be decided soon. Or at least - hopefully soon.
I stare blankly as i played through all the images of suggestions. Right now there were three main choices. Or three that i didn't mind.
The first one's been around since a decade ago. And probably the one everyone'd think is least suitable to be chosen. It revolves around superficiality and doesn't necessarily takes brains but does call for the inner bitch of any girl to make its debut one way or another. I'd get to ogle peep-toes, skinny jeans and tunics on a daily basis though. I would really like to just dive in head-first and do the thing i'm ironically in love with - despite being a nerd and all - but i know i can't. Because it takes more than just ambition and foresight and watching one too many ANTM episodes for this.
I frowned a little. Okay so i'm not ready for this yet - next option.
This one's been the answer i've been dishing out everytime interrogation on the career/college front comes about. Just like the former, this one requires a girl to be a bitch more often than she'd like. Starting to think it'd be alot easier if i were one of those. But then again - no. Just not the type who'd flaunt what (and who) they've done all over cyberspace to decrease whatever morsels of dignity they've left.
Anyway the second choice involves deadlines, freebies, odd hours, people and writing. The only thing i've got going is the latter. And somehow showing up for an interview with, 'I love writing' sounds too unconvincing. Not particularly good with people or deadlines. Especially not people. But given how recently a tiny - microscopic - part of the pessimist in me have considered converting to optimism - this option is gonna clash with it all.
Then comes the last. It's safe and it doesn't need much working with people which i found out lately i'm allergic to. I won't be working with people but more like working on people. And it's like playing Aunt Agony to a bunch of 'em everyday just that i might come in contact with the occasional nutbag.
Fulfilling decade-old daydream, prisoner to deadlines or crying shoulder to nutbags?
Sigh.
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