Work has never been one of my so called fortés. I've never been a fan of it, and it, I'm sure, has never thought of me as one of it's loyal believers. However, I am a slave to the machine, and need to buy buy buy! Thus, I work.
The last few days have been extremely testing. I sit here at my dest, look over at my collegues that are ever so hard slaving away at their computers, and all I can do is sigh, and open up my internet explorer.
This is not to say that I don't work hard. Because I do. It's more that I cannot bare the idea now, three days before I go on vaccation to the Costa Blanca of Spain, slaving away at my desk, while the sun is shining outside, to work and find that drive that "the business needs."
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I'm jealous. When I win the lottery, I'm going to move to Spain and open a newspaper stand/coffee shoppe. Until that happens, I'm jealous.
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