Dear Mama,
Today I have confirmed my strong belief (and your constant accusations) that your dear son is indeed a shopaholic. The hint not being the countless amount of CDs purchased after downloading them first. Not the accumulating BluRays that will never be unwrapped. Not the monthly credit card bills that *almost* hit the roof.
My dear Mama,
Today is a particularly bad day for me, which almost never happens. But by which a bad day for my definition would be a bonus for your daughter. It’s a combination of scorching hot sun, talking to smart people, idiot drivers and cumulating documents on my in tray. But when I look at my super worn out work shuz I just can’t stand it but rush out to buy a new pair (if my boss is somehow a freak who reads blogs of their subordinates, no by rush out I mean after work hours).
Mama,
When you see me still sleeping when my beloved sister has left home for work you would have figured going to work is not my passion. So why oh why am I feeling perky all of a sudden after providing cash to the guy on the other side of the counter? Am I not paying for accessories that reminds me of days of torture? But still its almost feeling like I just purchased yet another pair of RAM to add onto my best pal in the world – my PC that never sleeps (bless that poor soul).
Oh dear mama, since when is a pair of working shuz = a pair of performance RAM?
* ok, for those not in my social cycle, note that I’m neither a geek, nor an introvert although this article may suggest so. nor am I a mama’s boy. Most facts here are made up to mock a dear ‘non-imaginary’ friend of mine. But fact be told, yes this urban youth shall now and forever be a certified shopaholic!
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