12th December 2001.
It’s 12.32. I’m due at summit for rock climbing at 2pm. Patrick rang this morning. Must’ve realised how knackered I sound. As a matter of fact I still feel quite dead. Doesn’t help that I slept at 5am with a frown on my face. Urgh.
One thing at the time Kat..
Patrick rang again and said he’s gonna view a few units at Mont’ Kiara. Lets hope that real estate cow doesn’t decide to jack the price. As a matter of fact I should be there right now helping him haggle the price. Shit I need my mocha! A week without it is more than I can bear. I miss my mocha like a love fool misses the lousy ex. Well come to think of it….
Anyhows.
Last night was really a bitter blow. To me in a way I guess. He can be such an idiot it’s not even funny. And it’s not fair for him to be mad at me when I don’t even know what it’s about?! Come to think of it it’s most likely he’s angry with anyone that lives in this house and that it’s easier for him to be angry with me so be it. Why does that bastard have to disrupt my sleep? The only piece of sanity I have left exist in my sleep (for which I’m well doubtful of the integrity of) and he has to go tread his mud caked boots all over it.
12.46pm…I should go get ready. Think I
should call Patrick first to check how the haggling has gone. *slaps self
with trout* Good god Kat you know you just want to get a mocha.
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