Was suppose to go out with ladyfriends to watch Superman tonight. I wanted to go because I am desperate for a social life. I've said no too many times. But just when I was riding a taxi towards SM City, my asthma kicked in. It had to rain. Temperature had to change. And I had to have coughing fits while giving driver directions to head home instead of going to the mall. Woe is me! Well, I'm not really into Superman anyway. Between man of steel and man of wit, I'd pick House anytime. For some reason, I seem incapable of gawking on boys younger than me. Hahaha.
Anyway, tension is subsiding.
Dad is out of the hospital. With strict instructions to avoid salt and sugar, which he immediately defies as soon as he stepped out of the car. He went to the mall today on this own, and then realized he was too weak to walk, and headed straight home. I wonder where I get all this stubborness from?
My pockets are now empty. Hehehe. So what's new? The good thing about not having money, is it eliminates the decision on what to buy first. :) So I sit here and be content with what I have.
Photo exhibit ends tomorrow and I am now ready to lose to younger classmates whose parents are judges of the competition. I find it fulfilling just to see my photos being displayed (18 of them) in a 15-man show (Hahaha). I overhear good comments about my work, and I beam pride inside out. It is so fulfilling. Still, I am my own worst critic. But that is just a passion for perfection.
The men at work, sympathizes with my asthma and lets me sleep for as long as I like. My asthma wakes me up early morning and won't let me sleep till the sun goes up. I needed to drag myself to work. I have lost weight. But I am being babied like I was a baby. The men at work spoil us, women (only 2 of us) by buying us lunch two times this week. Then, they let us order them around. Hehehe. I guess now you'd understand why I love my work.
In the meantime, I am home with season 2 of 24 and my current read. Anna Karenin just admitted to herself that she is rapturous over falling for Vronsky, a guy other than her husband and at the same time tortured with the guilt of it. Meanwhile, Levin finds hope in uncovering Kitty's unwellness.
Still I find my mind drifting off to Patrick Dempsey in a doctor's uniform. Hahaha. I miss Grey.