This morning I woke up like a hungry wolf, I wanted to devour the whole world, and I was happy about the goods we'd ordered yesterday. I could contain myself and ate only one sandwich for breakfast and two more for lunch; however, the cinnamon and cocoa rolls did my stomach in after giving Ági a nice foot massage. I'm an idiot. A complete knob head. A failure incarnate. Now here I am with an upset stomach again. I don't know what got into me and why I lost my common sense. I should have known it much better. Now I'm sitting at my desk with a stomach so big as a Michelin mascot's suffering from my own stupidity. What a brilliant mind I have, don't I? Let's face it, I'm a twat...
When I woke up this morning, I knew the day wouldn't be an active one. Nothing sinister happened that would have suggested anything unexpected; it was rather one of those intuitions that depicted how the events of the day would unfold. This gut feeling strengthened when I grabbed Abby's leash and took her for her early morning walk. She was as inactive as I was, and the speed and length of our walk corroborated this theory. We ambled back to the house momentarily. After this painfully short-lived stroll with a surprisingly exhausted canine, I sat in front of the TV, munched my breakfast and slurped the much-needed black nectar in the form of a strong espresso. What a surreal still-life this was. Especially considering how many episodes we have watched from one of the currently watched series. As my system started to absorb the caffeine, switching my wee brain into the first gear, the haze dissipated over today's schedule. Harnessing this ephemeral clear state, I rushed into...
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