Sorry. Maybe I’m not cut out to be a writer afterall.
I’m on my way to become a Bikram’s instructor. Who’s willing to loan me RM20, 000?
Yeah. Didn’t think so.
I can’t come up with punny puns, I can’t write, I can’t do jackshit when I’ve got 4-5 press ads smirkin at me with a big-headed boss who’s trying not to wring my neck in 3 different places – which is quite easy since my neck’s quite fat, he said – as I can’t deliver the damn ads on time.
Fuck this. If anything, I’ll be good at yoga and am proud to say that I can complete 90 minutes in a room heated to 32 degrees Celcius.