Eh... So this is it? The end of the semester? It's either I'm suffering from some kind of dissonance, or I'm sadistically attached to the notion of school. From the moment I dropped the pencil and handed in the paper until now, I'm still feeling... weird.
Post-exam emptiness. I've seen people playing slam dunk with their notes the moment they barged out of the examination hall, and I'm wondering why I'm even bothering to file my notes back nicely, in proper running order when I returned home. Madness.
And what better way to ruin my recuperation plan than to snuggle up on the couch with a sappy romance novel like Dear John in hand. And I couldn't fall asleep after that because I was so afraid that I would suffocate myself to death with the blocked nose incurred from excessive crying. Bleah. Nicholas Sparks had deliberately crafted a flawed character out of John, and it worked wonders in capturing those young and innocent hearts. While the writing style is still a little adolescent, but isn't that what Sparks was hoping for?
And I'm getting indecisive about jobs, especially when on one hand there's an internship, and on the other hand there's a temporary position as a marketing project director. Gah. Will one hate me for accepting the other? Or were they colluding to test my susceptibility to a higher paycheck? Ok. I shall pick the one who accepts me first. To hell with it.
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