| Current mood: |  lethargic |
Slartibartfast
No matter what time I leave office, I only get home past seven forty five. This is getting to be a pain. Even if I leave as early as six, I can only make it after seven forty five. Sometimes I switch three buses to get home as soon as possible, and it still doesn't work. No matter what route I take, and no matter how light or how heavy the traffic is. Nowadays, I don't wait much... just get on to any bus going in the general direction, then switch wherever most inconvenient coz I'm never sure where the bus is headed. Anyways, I sleep a lot when I travel. In fact, this one time when I was getting to work in the morning, I overslept, and thankfully the conductor dude knew me so he woke me up. I'd have to have made my way back from Santacruz otherwise, and thats more time in uncomfortable seating. I'm too tall for the leg room.
Soccer! I play soccer most evenings, when I'm back before eight (I manage time highly efficiently). We play in the basketball court, and its mostly wet because of the rain. But it's awesome fun. And the best part is, I'm pretty good at it. Have to improve my shooting though, but I can carry the ball forward reasonably well. It's great exercise too, coz you're defending one moment, and the next you're getting up front. If only I'd developed this newfound talent earlier; who knows... maybe Rogeroo would've found a drummer sooner.
The Canadian Grand Prix was interesting. Atleast both Mclarens finished. I am content in the knowledge that my team has successfully completed a race, and BOTH cars made it to the finish line, and that too in the points! I mean, what more could a disgruntled fan ask for. Cheesy poofs!
I miss college a bit. Whenever I meet any classmates, the first question asked is "How's work?" Weren't we irresponsible angst-ridden youth just a few months ago? I don't think much has changed in that direction, but somehow I feel grown up. It's a sad feeling, especially since I wanted to be 19 forever, and that bitch Age had to catch up with me. I hate to be bothered about things. I need to leave my home, and in my search for truth, hopefully I'll find a drummer, and she will, in fact, be big-bosomed...
Song: Song 2 - Blur
Poetry In Static
I got my head done,
When I was young.
It's not my problem,
It's not my.. problem.
Thought
Beauty is in the eye of the beer holder
Till next time...
Whooo Hoooo!
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