I gotta just write somewhere before I go crazy. Lots to do, lots to do, and LOTS TO DO.
Every day I wake up running from dreams where I get nothing completed, I start the day with a furiously pounding heart, I brave the day bearing the weights of the dreams that I promised to make come true....and every night, I go to bed with the feeling that I should be typing more proposals, doing more presentations instead of resting.
I need a rest. I can never rest.
At some point of life, you will blame luck for everything. This is not a good stage of life.
Monday, December 08, 2014
Sunday, November 16, 2014
Hi Bonita, I am/you are back.
I was on the verge of closing this blog down forever. If it's not continued, I would rather make it a clean blank page.
And then I read my last post with the pictures of my growing belly during pregnancy. And the last last post about putting weight. And then on and on. This is a 10 years old blog, oh my. I stopped writing diaries ever since I've moved in with The Man, it is too hard to pen down anything close to your heart when you know all the drawers will be opened (locked or unlocked) and all letters will be read (stamped confidential or not). Ah well. WELL.
Daken's coming one years old in 2 weeks time. Yeah, that lump from my body that was deposited into a living human being. I went through alot post-pregnancy. ALOT is an understatement really.
So fucking cute. Baby I know.
Speaking of babies, I'm glad that one of the sisters is finally pregnant. Enough of prep-talk with those who are not even married, I need someone to complain to about the prices of milk powder, waking up in the middle of the night to feed, education conflicts with the MIL and a respond with a roll-eye-I-know-this-feeling-too someone.
**
Agency turns 2 this month! I'm supposed to get the anniversary thank you gifts settled. Supposed to.
And then I read my last post with the pictures of my growing belly during pregnancy. And the last last post about putting weight. And then on and on. This is a 10 years old blog, oh my. I stopped writing diaries ever since I've moved in with The Man, it is too hard to pen down anything close to your heart when you know all the drawers will be opened (locked or unlocked) and all letters will be read (stamped confidential or not). Ah well. WELL.
Daken's coming one years old in 2 weeks time. Yeah, that lump from my body that was deposited into a living human being. I went through alot post-pregnancy. ALOT is an understatement really.
So fucking cute. Baby I know.
Speaking of babies, I'm glad that one of the sisters is finally pregnant. Enough of prep-talk with those who are not even married, I need someone to complain to about the prices of milk powder, waking up in the middle of the night to feed, education conflicts with the MIL and a respond with a roll-eye-I-know-this-feeling-too someone.
**
Agency turns 2 this month! I'm supposed to get the anniversary thank you gifts settled. Supposed to.
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