I live in a pool of ink

I am a lonely writer. I live in a pool of ink.

I think, at the rate of how things are going, I will remain a lonely writer for a long while or for the rest of my life even.

I am amazed by the number of mismatches in the world of dating. You like a person and the person doesn't like you and you don't like the person who likes you.

I received an internal (yes read INTERNAL. how can you hit on your colleague...disgusting) email yesterday: "I am sent on a mission by my colleagues to check on the beautiful and mysterious gal who sat behind me on the bus last Friday. They want to know whether you are attached." (<---------very cheesy)

huh? what? *Delete*

Today, an SMS came in: Want to have dinner instead this Friday? I can't book a court.

huh? what? *ignore*

Later today, another SMS came in from the person whom I want to get to know better: "thanks D but I am ....."

huh? what? *disappointed*

Dating coordinator, are you there? Are you listening?

"Oiii, you! Si mi kang tou? Hello? All in one week? WAKE UP!"