Groucho Marx

i've replaced my sense of humour for a less-supplicating cranky demeanor and negative mindtrips of late. ive a rather uneasy feeling at the pit of my stomache these few days. the kind you get when you know you have incomplete tasks accompanied by a feeling that hovers over you like a wretched vulture waiting to swoop down for the kill. im talking about work of course. deadlines being my mental aggresor, i've been surreptitiously honed to be extremely sensitive to urgent tasks and due dates. so when i left the office last friday, knowing that i have an entire pending list of tasks to be done, i knew straight away that my weekend was cursed. i still stick by my principle though, that work is work and family is family so i've since stopped bringing home work to do unless its absolutely necessary. but still, that doesnt mean that conjured images of task backlogs doesnt haunt my dreams when i lie in bed at night. hence, the uneasy feeling at the pit of my stomache.

..then again, it could just be constipation.