Today Pineapple comments, "Mahilig ka talaga magNet noh?" with a mocking stare, as if trying (and failing miserably) to understand my need to be glued to the PC while simultaneously working my boring desk job.

I hesitate to answer, because for one, I ask myself how do I begin to answer such skepticism from someone who cannot learn Photoshop on her own and may not know the existence (and thus, the value) of Wikipedia, Google or BitTorrent? --,

Maygad. So I just shut up and nod, affirming that, indeed I would spend a considerable amount of my time Googling something random and finding out that Susan Sontag has written a book about the "predatory nature" of photography. For such a long time I thought everyone appreciated this art form and what it contributes to society (of course, more than its aesthetic implications) and not once, did I think of it as anything remotely related to a predatory nature. 

Perhaps Pineapple may not see the need to be connected to the Web every single day because she may not care much about any of those things I deem would delight any self-confessed web addict or anyone who may feel incomplete without logging on to *insert website of choice here*. 

As for me, I have all the reasons to surf. So Pineapple, get away from me.  

It's been awhile since I wrote anything in here and it's because the past few weeks have proven to me that twenty-four hours is not enough for me to sit down and collect my thoughts. I give up writing to catch up on my sleep, because I get cranky in the mornings if it's anything less than 8 hours. And then, I work. When I sit in this cubicle, everything about it is urgent and everything else is unimportant. And that a blissful Sunday off is not enough to cover the time spent to update my wardrobe or to travel back to where I need to gain my sanity.

When my suicidal bus carries me to work and it runs past a street with a handful of people looking as if they have nothing to do, I wonder if there is any way I can buy a portion of their idle time. And if the money in my savings account were enough to buy me an extra Saturday each week, I'd then be able to text generously, catch up on my reading list, pig out on food that I missed in the previous dinnertimes, circle a mall thrice over and learn how to cook, apart from God knows what else.

I might end up broke by buying an extra Saturday every week and all year-round but I did buy me more time, to live.  

Now don't laugh. I don't even like Avril to begin with. But this year's Christmas party would be interesting, very interesting in fact, that I'm going to end up looking like this. :P Harhar. And. This would be a very good excuse to get that piercing I've been wanting for ages. 

Hmm. So does anyone know where to buy fish net stockings? 

and the instance I got it out from my big brown bag, Rovee smiled that I-am-hungry-like-hell smile of hers that I had to say, "Gusto mo?" 

She nodded so sheepishly, I laughed. :P 

The pasta was for the baby anyway, so what the hell. She didn't finish it all, but had a ham sandwich a few minutes after. What was left of my macaroni was what I had for lunch.