Monday starts off outstandingly with my boss questioning me about my tweets which she heard about from someone. Of course, this brings me utmost joy; someone your age going to your boss complaining, for lack of better word, about your tweets. How often can someone get this lucky, I know you want to be me right now. It's surprising how someone can be so offended by what you tweet, but not offended enough to unfollow you; it's similar to smelling a pile of shit, and sitting right beside it... unless you are the said pile of shit *mutters* case in point. I, of course, do the morally ethical thing and place my boss and all our mutual friends in a thing I like to call "No Wall Limited Profile". Looking out for the greater good, or something like that. *Pats self on the back*
Tuesday The Devil decides to reward me for good behaviour and decides to throw a party in my uterus. This was obviously very V.I.P and exclusive as Mother Nature and all her evil spawn bastard children decided to join. I almost die of death. While we are on that note, why is it that Midol costs over $1000, and add insult to injury, pharmacists are so ugly? By Tuesday Evening, I am semi-recovered and think I deserve a treat to some television. I retreat to the living room to discover the remote is missing. I looked everywhere, I even came across a rather decayed lizard in my adventure. I am yet to find the remote, knowing it was my little sister who last used it, therefore I have come to the conclusion that she has ate the remote. Yes, this is completely logical, I have done extensive research and all the evidence points to her bellaay. By Tuesday Night, I am staring at the blank TV, about to play some music on my phone. And out of no absolute where, my keypad just stops working completely. Come Pleat Ly. I went to hell and back. My BB Service is stuck in that godawful place and I can't get it out. I start to mourn. I begin speaking in tongues; Biblical tongues, human tongues, cow tongue, and so forth.
Wednesday, I am thoroughly enjoying my day without my phone and TV, it's only natural. I hop on Facebook Chat, seeing I'm obviously going to die soon anyway why not do something absolutely ridiculous. I spot the guy I have been crazy over and have the best sexual connection with, yay! Seeing that I have downgraded him to "Just Friends" level NB. Just-Friends, in otherwords, "self-denial but hey, it seems to be working" so I think we can have a friendly chat, instead we have an argument about something I tweeted about him two eons ago. Yay, another person scrutinizing my timeline, twice in one week Kareen. Kudos! What's worse, I cannot even retaliate because at that same time, one little breeze blow and messes up my Internet connection. At that particular time. So I am seething. With no phone and no internet to say a word leaving him with the final say, as a matter of fact, he had all the say filled with all the sarcasm he had to offer.
Anyway, the week's still young but I don't think it can get any better than this.
On that note, I will exchange my little sister for one FLOW remote and one Blackberry.