Darkschunt

Yesterday one of the gals from my office, Nina, got an assignment to interview Maksim, that croatian piano player guy. of all the luck! gah! i want to interview him too! instead i get stuck interviewing bratty teens who do nothing but giggle and talk in stupid foreign languages that i don't understand when i ask them a simple a question. fuck you all you assholes! dintcha mother teach you to talk to strangers?!? plus the first roll of film that i bought somehow got exposed and i had to buy another which left me with zero cash for lunch for the rest of the week. blergh. i came back to the office all pissed off but suddenly Nina shows up and drops a piece of paper in front of me. Maksim's autograph!!! to me!!! okay so he has no idea who the hell i am but who cares?
my sister is coming back from aus today. i spent the last three days cleaning up our room. everytime i pick up something i get so exhausted it takes me another fifteen minutes before i can go on to the next item. i hate cleaning. when i get my own house i'm going to get an army of maids or live with a friend/boyfriend/husband who is a cleaning maniac. she was due back at seven thirty this morning and by ten thirty my mother called me at work. "she's not back yet. where could she be?" i assured her that she was probably having breakfast or at her boyfriend's house or something but my mom was still worried. she probably got stuck at the transit in Singapore and is trying to get a sampan to take her to melaka or johor or something. then i could have an extra day to finish cleaning our room.