what will be the death of me?

according to the interviewer, perfectionism is a
terrible flaw.



*stabs self*



*revives*
stupidchattytalk. oh well, I think its the iced raspberry white mocha talking through my fingers. I suspect that would be the death of me instead, by busting through my waistline. right. can't that fat just attach itself to something more flattering? damn vanity. oh well!



for experience, I definitely need to think of more things to say before an interview, to make myself feel better instead of doing that bit of shifty eyes. hope that didn't leave a bad impression, but I remembered to breathe and talk slowly and articulate my words correctly... surely I felt more nervous for my English O level oral exams than this... look them in the eyes... engage the examiner... sigh.



I miss Miss Ong.
old dreams and wise words.
so where am I standing in life now?