My day is wasted. I did not discover any more star-rated words that I could key in on that particular model of Casio. Because I missed that lecture.
The 2 hours I spent yesterday reading the case about some firm's financial distress are wasted. Now, I look like I am in distress.
Sometimes, like today, it looks like all the machines are conspiring to ensure that I don't achieve what I want to. This wasn't a lecture I was planning to miss! But the volume of my Creative speakers was unimaginably and mysteriously low. When I woke up at 12, the alarm set to ring at 9 was still humming, at a volume that wouldn't be detected by advanced radars.
Waking up like a maharaja at close to noon has its benefits. I mean, you don't really find curvaceous, meaty dasis at your beck and call but you do feel good. Unless your head is spinning like an electron. Then it is bad. Very bad.
It is worse for people like me, whose passport enquiry took long because they suspected I was an illegal immigrant from Sudan. Miss a few meals here and there and the pants will start dropping. And new holes will need to be punctured in the leather belt. The chain watch will start slipping out and photos will increasingly begin to resemble X-ray shots.
Finally, the impassioned plea of my neighbour melted me. I now have the entire 10GB folder in my WinAmp playlist. Some utterly crappy songs, more suited to hearing in tempos and autos, pop up once in a while and I have to jump to my keyboard with the swiftness of BruceLee. Lest my ear drums be traumatized.
But it gives me a feeling of freshness that only a shower with PearsSoap can.
I will be back!
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