Entombed night

1:49 a.m. is Internet and Boracay Rum and Entombed’s Clandestine album blaring from the speakers. Can’t go wrong with old-school Swedish death metal on days when you feel like breaking things and smashing faces. I just had one of those days, and this midnight rain isn’t helping at all.

I knew from the moment I lost my hankie on my way to work that the day had turned upside down. See, I’m OC about my hankies. It troubles me no end every time I lose one. Carelessness never cease to make me feel bad about myself. Losing a hankie means I let my guard down for a moment. Someone could’ve attacked me on that moment and I won’t be writing this now.

Just think: James Bond would never lose a hankie. So there.

Entombed thinks you're all a bunch of pussies

Anyway, that seemingly trivial event was just the proverbial tip of the iceberg. Some minutes later, at the office (my own personal Hotel California), I got embroiled in a nasty top-level brouhaha that has the makings of a major king-hell bummer. Much that I want to rant about it here, I cannot because I’ll be violating company policy if I do. Let’s just say that it was the mother load of everything that went wrong in my life in recent months, and it has something to do with this dude here.

When it rains, it really pours. As if that was not enough, I also learned today that I didn’t win anything, not even a fucking consolation prize, in the writing contest I joined last October. WTF! I sent my best fighter for that particular battle, man. Oh well. Put ‘L’ for loser on my forehead, baby, because that’s exactly how I feel. No amount of pep talk can change the truth: losing sucks big time!

I hope Wednesday will be a rebound.


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