Greetings from the veranda/balcony on the 26th floor. I've beena domesticat for so long now all I do is watch Desperate Housewives on DVD, check my email every 10 minutes, eat, sleep and take drugs. I've said this one and I'm going to say it again, I feel like a walking pharmacy with all the medication I'm taking for my tonsilitis/paryngitis, which by the way is still not healed. And believe me, I'm starting to think I'm going to have a swelling throat for the rest of my fucking life.
Anyway, blogging from the veranda of this building with only my boxers and undershirt on, overlooking a view of the city; how urban ghetto is that? I love it. I wish I was paid to do something like this.
Although I'm enjoying the lounging and eating and napping, I'm feeling kind of useless. This is very unproductive. I mean, how can I stay here doing nothing when there are bills to paid and errands to attend to, not to mention, work to be done at the office?! Well, it's my rest day actually but I already missed two days (or nights) of work and I'm pretty sure the current amount on my next next paycheck is pathetic
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