The 'L' Word

Such a freakin' loser last week every single day.

I cannot come up with a creative yet cheapo invitations for the outing. The creative juices are not flowing at all! Sabi na eh, ayaw kong maging head ng marketing committee eh!

Not being able to make progress with the functional specs due on the end of the month. I kinda don't want to do it anymore. (sorry if you're reading this, just a temporary lapse in judgement and sanity)

Do not have any idea on how **** connects to ******* using ********. And have no idea anymore about classpaths. And ini files. And whatever jar files are there.

Tracking D using Smart's Person Finder every hour until it won't let you send a tracking message anymore, because last week you tracked him in the motel area of Pasig when he's supposed to be playing basketball. In fairness, there's a nearby basketball court, says an officemate of mine. Still don't like his sneakish attitude lately though. [or i'm just a paranoid loser, whatever]

Dysmenorrhea na lang every month!!! Makes me want NOT to be a girl anymore. Guys have more fun. They can screw around and be like the biggest jerks but they still get hi-fives. Girls, however, can't screw around -- we're paralyzed by stupid abdominal cramps every month.

Hyper-freaking-acidity attacking on a Friday, and on badminton game night at that. Isn't the butterflies in my stomach not enough to wreak havoc -- there should be acids spewing out too?

Losing at badminton sucks. Sucks sucks sucks. I wanna obsess over it, like I'm a really good badminton player who had a bad day. But I'm not, that's why we lost, but I still feel bad, so there. Because I was the last shot who made the other team won. An easy shot that could've gone over the net but since I'm a loser, didn't.

Asking D if he's on his way to pick me up, but then he tells me he's with R and they're still looking for cellphone stickers at Megamall and he wants me to haul my ass at Recipes so we could all eat dinner. Hyperacidity, abdominal cramps and losing the game made me an emotional bitch so I said, no, get your ass over here, yan ang napagusapan. Then sent a text message explaining my bitchiness.

And I hate meeting his officemates -- I feel that when they'd see me, they'd understand why he's the biggest flirt in the world -- because I'm ugly and fat and sweaty and a loser.

The clincher: D's phone in his shorts pocket while he was sleeping. D woke up with a start as I was un-velcro-ing the pocket to take out the phone, but then he grabbed his phone. Talk about suspicious behavior. And I'm still going to send a naughty picture to him.

Yes, I am the loseriest loser. Gawd, this week just sucked the hell out of me. No, I sucked it real bad this week.

Or I suck real good, depends on how you see it ;)

P.S. Just let me sink to the lowest depths of my loserness. Then later I just might come out of the ashes like a hot goddamn phoenix. Naks.


  1. The idea of **** connecting to ******* through ******** is simply by the use of *******. But it was over-engineered and poorly written to begin with. Hence, the complexity.

    It's a piece of sorry shit.

  2. ayos. ano yung "simply the use of *******"???