Not Much

So this is what a day-off feels like. Freedom and boredom sucks.

I've been working my ass off for the past few days. I was scooping out molds of crinkle mixture, shape what I've scooped to a sphere, throw it to this basin filled with powdered sugar, then arrange it together with other crinkle spheres into this baking pan with powdered sugar, put the pan in the oven, wait for a couple of minutes, then pack them.

This is what I did for 15+ hours for each day that I worked.

At first, I was very much overjoyed. I mean, really. This is the first time that my vacation had been productive, at the very least. Nobody living under our roof cannot, for the love of crinkles, call me a fat-ass who slacks off 10 hours a day. Or the whole day, if you would like to be more generic. That's because I worked my way to a buttload of pastries my mom asked me to make.

But after 10 hours (I don't know why I keep using 10 as a number. Something to do with the horoscope shits probably), I felt absolutely bored with all of it already. When the maids are in the other side of our kitchen that is seperated by a wall, I would curse myself to death. It is a wonder too that one of our maids asked me what "stupid", "shit", "fucking hell, and "God this so suck please kill me now" means. I was surprised that they heard everything I said to the crinkle mixture. Maids have some kind of telepathy now? What the hell.

So there. Today's my day-off. And tomorrow. And the next day. And the next day. Until we get some more orders, I guess I'll be spending my days watching the first season of Ugly Betty and Heroes. And please don't call me a slacker. It's not like I have anything else to do anyway.

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I am still touched.

Monica gave me her Christmas gift last Tuesday at the year-ender party Ira organized at her crib. She ordered me to not open it till I arrive at home, which did not happen till the clock striked at 10 pm. And GOD. I was so flabbergasted at the sight of her gift. Come check it out.

IT'S STEWIE FOR CHRIST'S SAKE. I just love that baby.

The following aren't gifts, but they were scribbled all over that gift wrap. I know posting them is not making any significance to any of this, but I don't know. It kinda hit me that my world revolved around these scribbles for quite some time. And I liked it, actually.

The Holy Grail. He used to be my swimming coach, by the way.


I can't believe I'm posting this.

I miss Geometry too.

No friend had ever given me a shirt for Christmas. Not until Monica did so.

THANK YOU BODIKA. You don't know how much I love your gift.

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