Drips of gold

Just one day before I finally plunged into the insane world of espresso machines, I bought a 1L press pot. Needless to say, it’s got one hell of a short life span.
Made redundant without ever being filled with coffee, off it goes back to Harris Scarfe in hope of a full refund.

Yep. Ten years after starting the habit, 3 years of living off (literally) my faithful coffee press, I dropped a whole lot of cash & got a proper coffee machine along with a decent grinder.
Even though the mesh on my dear little thing is slightly torn up, its been through hell & back with me so I can’t be blamed for not wanting to part with it.

Nothing beats tamping freshly ground beans into a group handle.

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You’re just a living waste of skin

I always thought being around people who tried too hard was like eating sand paper.
Until now.
This is a new low.

As pretentious as ever, and for some odd reason not having an iota of modesty.
For all the talk, it’s nice to know you never once look in the mirror.
Maybe you haven’t heard of the saying pot calling the kettle black.
Or perhaps you’ve just got it into your minuscule brain that you’re the only things that matters in this whole goddamned world. Nothing compares to you, but your pathetic little existence. For fucks sake, wake up already.
The company that I keep might not be your cup of tea, but at least they’ve got some resemblance of class.

And for that, I’d pick the plastic figurines anytime.

Stop 51: Next to the naked tree that is below the slope

To say my day started uneventfully would be an understatement.
I overslept, thus being late for work. Thankfully, I managed to kick my awesome housemates awake who then sent me all the way down to Trott Park.

After having one of those days, I think I really needed today to be splendid. And splendid it was. I reckon it’s always nice to be able to take people by surprise (in a good way of course). Not only did I finish up my workload on time, my bus ride back was equally enjoyable. If anyone needs to know, today’s the second time in quick succession that I’ve had the whole bus to myself. Yeah, just me and the driver. That’s how bloody out in the wilderness I am.

Being 30minutes away from Thursday, I really can’t wait to go TGIF in 27h time and get sloshed.

Tuesday blues

Ka-ching.
I guess it’s weird that for all the time spent @ Sefton Park, I never touched the till once. Scared to death that I’ll be blamed for any financial irregularities, I regularly try not to have anything to do with money unless I absolutely have to.

And I messed up a lot on my 2nd placement roll yesterday.
Somehow, the whole working environment’s just so bland and tight. It’s like that big purple elephant in the room that everyone tries not to acknowledge.

So to sum it all up @ 632am, I really am trying to come up with an excuse to play sick.

Email filter nightmare

I love gmail. It’s quick, doesn’t send me useless crap, and most important of all, minimalistic. It’s also got an excellent spam filter.
Except when I shoot off job applications to pharmacies.

And their replies get filed in under spam.
Can I blame gmail if I miss out on a job?
Ugh.