No, I won't consider today a good day. Breakfast was good enough, I had my Chee Cheong Fan with my mum and dad. Coming to work was good enough (except for this lady in a blue Atos who honked me because she wouldn't let me cut into her lane, I suppose I deserved it even though I signaled). I opened my Outlook and the e-mails were tame enough. I almost fell asleep (actually I did fall asleep) during a meeting, but it was okay, I pretended that nobody saw. That was fine enough.

Then at eleven a.m., I headed to the gym. I put on my socks and was rummaging through my bag for my shorts when I realized that I brought two shirts instead. I believe I laughed out loud at my stupidity.

Miffed, I trudged back to my cubicle, where all of a sudden I was inundated by a tsunami of nostalgia. Yes, I must delete nostalgic e-mails. I must.

Now I'm drawing a bloody complicated diagram for work, with this stupid song by Good Charlotte blasting in my head. Silly thing is, I refuse to listen to or think of any other song. And I really should get back to work.