Have I told you I’m awful in math?
Ugh, I am telling you now. I suck a whole lot.
But you know what? I made a discovery that if I was calculating money, I tend to be quite okay. Not superb but okay. Believe me, that is a considerable improvement from my astonishing lack of mathematical chutzpah. Don’t make me calculate triangles, planes, tangents and all them alpha numerics … but money, I’d be more than happy to sit, listen and perhaps answer a few problems.
I’ve been lifting hefty amounts of numbers in my head for the past few weeks and so far I’m surviving without tearing my seatmate’s hair off. Those numbers translates to money. Somehow I found myself a little more attentive and careful. Quite the capable student.
Maybe because I love money. I think there’s no need to be reminded that.
I wore stilettos last Tuesday, I felt sexy but the shoes are a murder. It hurts.
I haven’t bought any for several months now (save for the Chucks I bought a week before); perhaps the lack of anything that was tasty to my eyes challenged my love for shoes. So the moment I saw one that I really like, although it was close to breaking the bank, I grabbed it and made a beeline to the cashier.
This one was extra thin so I had to be careful. No running – I can do that with my other heels – and I need to be conscious that I am wearing a delicate shoes. Not so much a delicate ankle.
Pain is almost always a part of feeling pretty.
I’m wearing it again together with my skinnies. Strut, strut, strut.
I have a pimple as huge as Jupiter. This means I have to meet with my dermatologist again. Hate it!
My calendar is already full so with the appointment date, plus my resting period of three days, it’s a little difficult to squeeze all my activity in. Ugh.
Currently listening to Duffy via Launchcast