So there

I just had to go out and get some fresh air. I stood near the old Acasia tree feeling the breeze. I inhaled deeply. I’m sensing I was not alone. I turned my back and saw L my officemate.

“Stressed? “, She asked.

 ”Me? That’s not part of my vocabulary, dude. I am a the perfect epitome of GRACE UNDER PRESSURE (Not!!!?)”, I replied.

Here. She motioned for me to take the stick.

Ok, What the hell? It’s not like I’m doing something illegal here for crissake.

“What pleasure do you get from smoking anyway? I really don’t get it, really. I mean it’s nicotine. That’s it”, I continue to ramble.

She lit the smoke. Well it’s time for you to find out, she said with her menacing smile.

I puffed. Whatta fuck? Cough.Cough.Cough. I’m beginning to like this shit. I puffed three..four..five more…..

Yup…..

But of course, that did not happen in reality as my superb superego has rendered me paralyzed and incapable of grabbing the stick and putting it in my mouth. Instead, I ended up second hand smoking as always as we continue to rant and rave about how pathetic life in Commonwealth  was (no offense to those people living in that area), how rainy days just make you want to stay in bed all day and how in the world can we fulfill our whims without starving ourselves to death.

I cringe at the thought of me smoking. This should be included in my list on HOW I BECAME AN OYSTER.

Thank you, superb super ego. You really put the capital R is restrain.

So there I was… pwnd by my superego for the Nth time. Of course, I can’t complain, because she’s the one who keeps me afloat all these years. I mean who will prevent me from quitting my job and just be a slob like the rest of the population? Who will make me feel guilty for eating another snowboard?  Who will  constantly remind me to be more personable because I deal with people every day?

Yeah. yeah. I should stop now coz she’s proabably gonna read this and make me revise it later on. I’ve been a mess lately.