This is the bag that I'm feverishly lusting after right now...



The Chanel 2.55... 'nuff said.

I have titled this post "Depressed".

Depressed with the state of my social life.

Depressed with my never-ending work stress.

Depressed with being "me"... WTF.

Sitting here at 10.20pm, with a pile of laundry to be kept, and tons of work awaiting me in the office the next day, I cannot help but ponder, what else is there, and how much more I can take?

I feel like a vaccumm cleaner, sucking away all the dust and icky stuff, clearing other people's shit and taking in all the bad stuff, with no place to vent or empty it.

Used to love pubbing and binge drink, but now, all drinking gives me is a whole lot more shit. Wake up the next day with crappy hangovers and then my whole day is wasted. If the next day is a work day, all the more I can't drink, cos' I'll be zoning out in the office and my work will pile up. Even when I'm sober, it gets to the point where I'm so busy that I'm amazed I still have time to breathe.

I'm not complaining, but it just gets frustrating sometimes to deal with all the expectations. I'm expected to perform, and I also demand myself to perform. It has gotten to the point where I dream about work at night when I sleep. Time to ask for a pay raise, wuahahaha...

When life gets so busy, all you really hope for is someone meaningful to share it with at the end of a long day when you are burned out. At times like these, everything is depressing.

Especially when the person who should understand is the one that cannot comprehend anything. What then is the point in trying so hard to make a living for ends to meet? What then is the meaning of the initial agreement? What then is the true meaning of that sacred piece of paper?

If all we think of are our wants, our needs, and our perspectives, where then is the love, compassion and understanding? Is this the truth that I've been running away from and turning blind eyes to right at the beginning?