One hour away

I’m one hour away…

from a long weekend to which I will not feel guilty that I have so much work and that I’m taking the day off on Monday. Besides, the idea of a new job sounds like a better way to think about work. And since my interview is that day, I shall stress about that and not how full my inbox will be on Tuesday.

from seeing best friends for dinner. I’m not looking forward to trekking through the rain, especially when I’m tired and wanted to hit the gym, but there is no time in between for that. Not that I’m complaining too much about not working out, but the Chinese food I ate yesterday and the potential dessert I may consume tonight will be reason enough to make me feel like a guilty cow.

from checking on my gash on my right leg. I managed to use the stupid, pink, CVS-brand razor that I knew I should have trashed because they suck. They SUCK! And as I was drying off on the shower mat, I noticed blood. I knew I had a cut; I could feel it for goodness’ sake, but DUDE! This was like I tripped on an axe with my ankle. Damn razor.

And the clock ticks…


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