HELLO, MY NAME IS WORKAHOLIC

Do you know that I actually cut my holiday short because of work?

Ok, repeat with me people:

WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH ME?
WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH ME?
WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH ME?

All the time I've been whining about taking a holiday AND WHEN IT DOES COME AROUND, I PREFERRED TO DO MY FUCKING WORK.

Oh god. I don't know how to relax anymore. Booyah. There is never a time when Atikah does not love holidays. Until now.

Ok, to be honest, this 'work' is actually a project with the Star newspaper.

Yes. The Star. I know. So it's amazingly IMPORTANT FOR ME. And plus, I think it's good for my resume and I always wanted to work outside of school in this kinda thing bla bla bla bla yada yada yada etc etc etc.

One glitch: I'm working with six other people. Why glitch? Basically I'm supposed to be the coordinator which basically translates I'm sorta an editor. Which means I'm the one who chases people down and make sure they're doing work and everything is alright. And OF ALL PEOPLE, I work with AED (architecture) students who are basically THE BUSIEST students of ANY PROGRAMME.

Yeah well, actually I was invited by one of them to do it. So, you know, without them, there won't be any project for me in the first place.

But still!

The dateline is fucking tomorrow and I still haven't got one piece from one of them and I am supposed to write one more article just in case tak cukup articles for the whole thing. And apart from I have a 5-page assignment homework to send in THIS MONDAY.

And this is my holiday.

This is my fucking holiday.

SOMEBODY PASS THE DAMN RAZOR BLADE.

-- ooh happy merdeka people! Am waving an imaginary Malaysian flag.