As I've said in the previous post, I only have $300 bucks to spare for gifts and ehem, personal indulgence. I'm not sure if it's enough for them, but then, it's not everyday that I get a grip on this otherwise handful amount of money to buy stuff for myself. Not that I'm being a selfish bitch, but I'm jobless, not one cent is registering in my lonely pocket, and godparents are apparently done with their respective giveaways. So dare I say that I want to splurge in these three pieces of benjamins?
But... FINE. I'll buy them presents, just whatever my money can afford. And the leftovers, granted that there'll be any, will all be mine...ugh, hopefully. But seriously, this is becoming extremely ludicrous already. I'm morphing into a money-hogging, super cantankerous monster over this unworthy predicament. I know! I know! Money shouldn't really make me sad, or antagonistic for that matter. I mean, it's just money, right? But for a jobless prick like myself, $300 bucks turns into a jackpot that only hits your couch-potato-ass once in a blue moon. It's a sudden gift from heaven, with little satan whispering in your left ear quite convincingly, "gratify yourfuckinself!". I'm sorry, I don't tend to be blasphemous, but you perfectly know what I'm talking about. It's basically giving vs. receiving. Or as Mr. Tursunov refers to breakfast, the battle of temptations vs. sensibility.
I'm laying this out here because I know that most of my blog friends aren't hypocritical, and most likely are torn in the exact same dilemma as me during this time. So please, just allow me to complain, as if I'll be eternally robbed of a chance to appease myself. For what it's worth though, all I really wanted was enough money to use for school and the activities (yes! those activities) when I get back on it. $300 may not be a lot, but for a student, a yet struggling one at that, it's a whole damn lot. And just so you know, I'm not a d-a-d-d-y kind of domestic princess (something to be proud of, at least!), hence this pathetic quandary.
On a completely irrelative note... Happy Birthday Ate Vayie! Haha, dare I call you that. :))
ETA: And since somebody has been invigoratingly inquisitive, I'll be explaining a couple of trivial things here, as he requested, even if it's remotely disconnected to the titular subject, and it means I'll only be wasting time and energy because nobody would even read this part of the post anymore. But since it's the holidays, and I'm supposed to be a giver, I'm gonna allow this idiot intrude my otherwise self-centered blog. Among the eurogeek's one-liners were: a) "Why do you keep changing your blog address? You know that I didn't enjoy looking for your fat ass!", b) "Since when did you like lullabies?" - pertaining to my recent choices for music here, and c) "Actually, Home Alone could have been the best choice. You just wanted to look at Ryan Reynolds on a daily basis, did you?"
OK. First of all, I've been changing my blog address quite habitually, reasons have varied overtime, but mostly, it was to get rid of some unwanted readers, and no, that does not include you, eventhough you called me a fat ass and it hurt...because it's true, so fuck you! Lullabies? I'm skipping that one. And yes, the guy's sixpack, even if covered, is worth my header space, than yours in my still functioning memory. I'm so glad I can embarrass you here. Harhar!
Naughty > nice. Pfft!