The light at the end of the tunnel? That's a train coming...

I am a bum.


That sounds depressing. The truth, I suppose, for now.

I still put the alarm on 6:30am, which doesn't have much of a point since I defeat the only alarm clock who gets me conscious by turning it off. I dunno... I like mornings. The ones WITHOUT school.

So... I'm working off the energy by revising some old drawings I had courage enough to dig up from six feet under. No, just actually under my bed. I flipped through the first sketchbooks I ever had and found something I wanted to re-sketch. I had inked the new sketch two days ago, now I wanted to color it in. I had some trouble with the skin tone (I put my faith in the wrong shade of brown), and I just noticed the wrong angle for the right foot. Darn it. But it looks better than the original drawing anyway.
Bianca passed by and wanted to take a look, so I showed her the better version. But then she wanted to see the old one... and I knew it was ugly. I made her swear not to laugh or else I'd punch her.

Bianca: Oo na... hahahaha
Me: Hahahaha... teka
Bianca: Dali na... hahaha
Me: Ubusin mo muna tawa mo, haha
Bianca: *poker face* Game.
Me: *huge grin* HAHAHA!
Bianca: Ano ba! Hahaha...

You get the picture. It took a long time before we were sober enough to proceed with it. And when I finally showed it to her... Leche, tumawa. I chased her around the room with the eraser. She found sanctuary in the bathroom. Nobody won the push-the-door-open-keep-the-door-closed game, because we were dead even. She finally offered a truce of php2. I took the change and kept my peace. The end.