Just say yes.

This is my latest obssession. I am suckingly bad at it. They have this score chart thing and I'm on it because I was the only muff playing at nine-thirty in the morning. (Yes, I come in with the cleaning ladies and then end up with only myself and my dying plant for company till eleven-ish when the cleaning ladies go and everyone else comes.) Yeah so there's me and this guy called MASTER LIME on the top scorer chart with a score of 5,000. I have 100 points.

But my, the addiction of the game. It's better than eating Chocolate in bed while reading the latest Harry Potter. It's better than Johnny Depp in 'What's Eating Gilbert Grape'. Hell, it's better than listening to my maternal grandfather tell me that he doesn't have the klostrol so he can eat at much as wants thank you very much.

This is not winning me any brownie points at work. But whoever coined the phrase 'love for work' was probably so full of cheap wine he was looking at Marilyn Monroe and thinking that ladies with hair as white as hers should not go around flashing their undies like that. So being enemy no. 1 at work doesn't bother me much. And any way I have my quick word games to numb the pain.

My boss and me are still at loggerheads. My language has miraculously cleared itself. Because every time someone tells me something like 'you are a fucking bitch' all I can think of is "Boy I can make b-i-t, r-i-n-g, c-h-a-t, o-r-e and f-a-r from that."