NOTHING goes right. Not even walking to the bus stop. Got my bloody heels stuck in crevices twice in the morning. Once - falling into the gap between the lift and the landing. Like, how narrow is that gap. Damn it…And having constipation, again. Shitting becomes a painful pleasure.

I want a new job for Christmas. Or better, a new boss and better pay. That’ll suffice.

I watched Crossroads last night, reminiscing the better days of Britney Spears. It wasn't too good of reminiscing though. I remember cringing, wincing, and convulsing ultimately as the show goes on with non-stop commercials. I couldn't tear myself away from the tube no matter how turnoff the show was. Weird. It is like some warped connection in me - the more I should have moved away to stop disgusting myself, the more I want to stay put and see how bad it could get. It's a sort of an amusement. It's sad, that I spent my Saturday night raising my goosebumps for a good one and a half hour.

There were bouts of screams and yelps too, with "Oh my god" (because the show meant to say that she was a singer, and a good one to add. And singing her *pause* (and N'Sync's) songs for promotion. And she sounds awfully nasal.) punctuated every now and then through the show. It was really quite fun actually. Nacho Libre was a goddamn lousy low-budget show, but it surely didn't illicit such feelings from its viewers.

It's quite sad actually, to see Britney-then and comparing her to Britney-now. She wasn't really that hot in the movie, but at least, she's not in "perpetual pighood". Look at her now... (dismal)

Oh my. She serves as a reminder to me to upkeep my looks even when I become a mother. It's really quite sad to see the big slide. She used to be hot and a sex siren, for goodness sake. Actually... it wouldn't be as bad, if she just donned a T-shirt and jeans on her fugly days.

I wonder when is she going to clean up.

I don't feel good at all. Because it is not my day.

It is not my day, because responsibilities have piled on at work, my boss is returning to work tomorrow (which means more work), I felt bullied that everyone comes to me for everything, my shoulders ached like mad, I was really tired and kept zoning out, and my desk was in an entire mess. And I felt let down by a friend - attitude-wise, behavioural-wise.

In fact, towards the end, I was damn pissed.

Why the hell should I care about anything at all?

"I don't know." "I don't care." Damn it. I should learn to say these things more often. But argh, how to not care??? Isn't there an urge, or a tug inside you, to want to care? Something called responsibility? Oh ya. I doubt these people who can utter such words think that they are responsible for anything that goes wrong.

Or, people just get jaded. Because, they have went through this too. Again and again. And then, ultimately, there isn't just any point in getting upset. You end up, saying "I don't know." "I don't care.", just like the people you despise. Becoming one of those people you rant about during lunch hours to your close colleagues. I needn't learn it?

I need my sleep.

They say that a working life changes a person? I know why now. It's happening to me as well.

When my buddy told me that she has accidentally rebonded her hair, I was... appalled that she did so. But seriously, it's not at all impossible. I had, to my dismay, had encountered such situations before. Hair change disasters.

And I thought, "Oh no. Rebonded hair. On Kay's head. When she has such beautiful, full, wavy hair before!"

I did seriously think that it's going to be quite horrible. Picturing Kay with stiff rod-like hair sticking out of her poor head and all. Stiff hay that stuck out at her head behind her should there be any gust of wind.

Rebonded hair, is the hairstyle that I absolutely abhor. Linking the hairstyle to ah-lians with sharp-end combs sticking out of their pockets, and Fann Wong, isn't really that all good.

And worse still, if you have natural curly hair. And that's why... I really wonder how awful can Kay look with her new hairdo.

But surprisingly, it looks good!

At least the hairdresser didn't fry your hair, Kay. You look nice and er, femininely sexy? Like an indian ah-lian. Which I think is not that at all fugly.

But I suggest that you start saving up some money and do something about the curly roots once they start to show. Fry them if you have to. At least they'll look consistently fried.

Straight-then-curly hair: Acceptable.
Curly-then-straight hair: Unacceptable, not even if you're Christina Aguilera on her wildest days. Period.

Oh no. Ashlee Simpson is getting prettier than her more popular sister. After her nose job.

Or rather, Jessica is getting uglier. And somewhat, ghostly. But again, I never really thought of her as being pretty. She's square-faced and pouts too much, and her eyes looked.. stunned.

Not stunning.

Ah whatever.

I have been groaning the entire day today. So much that I want to slap myself.

"Go HOME!", a little voice in me screeched.

"You just took 2 days' leave last week, remember? And you have so much things to dooooooooooo...................." ...this overpowering voice drowned the little one.

I want to listen to the little voice though. :(

Wehh wehh wehhhhhhhhhhh...

Anyways, friends who are concerned about me after my second dreaded treatment for my back problem - I'm fine. Just bruised on the right of my body - but I was not disfigured. :) Everything's not so bad actually. Not as bad as the first time, cos prolly I didn't expect it the first time round? But this time, they whacked me with a plastic shaped bone cushioned with pink furry cover. Oh, and I was supposed to just grit it as they beat the rhythm out of me.

Don't have orh cheh 才怪.

They even pressed hard into the side of my right boob like they're going to break my rib bone. But yah, I got over that.

It's still rather manageable actually, save for the few times I yelped and screeched for my life as I writhed like a snake on the massage bed.

Really.