It's the third Sunday in a row that I've been in the office half-heartedly working, all alone in a stuffy office with no air-conditioning and no windows.
I want to die.
But wait! you ask. What is yours truly putting in extra hours into a job he complains about continually? In truth, I am not. What happened was, I got sweet-talked by the devil himself into taking on a freelance job to earn a little extra cash. It seemed like a good idea at the time. I mean, I'm single and alone and waste most of my weekends lazing around anyway.
Unfortunately, I found out the hard way that I have little motivation, inclination and drive to do freelance work while also being gainfully employed. I just can't summon the enthusiasm. Coupled with the fact that I'm going to be late handing this in and that the devil is getting nervous with the impending deadline and me not showing much progress, you can get the pressure I'm under. In fact, today is the projected deadline I told him. So much for commitment, haha.
Obviously I am not that hard a worker as I thought. I promise myself to never do such a silly thing again. Whatever money I may make from this ill-fated endeavour may very well be blown away in a spending spree just to make up for the mental pain and suffering I'm under right now. Working on a Sunday! How stupid.
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