Pink fluff.

I got my very first debit card. I feel like a grown-up. I know it’s only a debit card, but oh my gawd the hologram of two overlapping planets and the word MasterCard just does it for me. I feel like I’ve aged 15 years.

And damn, apparently I’m eligible for the platinum evil -_0. Not that I’m earning much, but it seems that employees from my company are considered quality clients or something. Hence, I could get the platinum plastic despite my lower-end salary. THIS IS LIKE DAMN RIDCULOUS, ok? Please, help me convince me that these bankers are a bunch of devil’s advocates.

I’m succumbing….I’m succumbing…..help. Ack.

I think my bedroom’s fengshui is bad. For more than a month I’ve been coughing, blowing watery booger back up my nostrils and spitting phlegm ala Beijing pedestrians. Boyfriend said it’s the dust. But I’ve been cleaning the room religiously (I light incenses for the altar every Chinese New Year, okay!).

Okay, so you’re right, Magic Mop is a scam. I’m shedding like a dog and it’s completely useless to pick up hair. There are pink dusty fluff collecting at all the corners in my room. And I don’t know what the hell and where on earth they come from. See, most things in my room are pink in colour and I just can’t figure out where the pink fluff originates from! Frustrating business figuring fluff.

I.need.a.vacuum.cleaner.

I bet if I died now and have a post mortem conducted on me, the doctor would find my bronchioles saturated with pink fluffs.