Of red nails and thirty cents


So who isn’t happy with pay day?

With utmost confidence and arrogance, I walk the streets on my way to work with nothing more than 30 cents. I try to avoid any stores with glass figurines for fear that the clumsy and penniless me might break something. You know what they say, “Once it’s broken, consider it sold.”

This is probably one of the best marketing and sales strategies invented. Admit it, once you see a store lined up with cutesy things and stuff, which you don’t really have a need with, you are tempted to at least browse through the sections and try vainly to see if something attracts you. Since the shelves are strategically lined up extremely close to each other, you can either come out of the store unscathed or with the sound of the broom sweeping what you have just broken. Ingenious.

Well, as happy as I am to receive my awaited pay, I still have to find a way to make it to the closing time at Lucky Plaza to remit. Just a few more months and its Christmas, but first I have to painstakingly remember that it’s the enrolment time. Who says headache for tuition payments are only for parents?

In the meantime, I am happy with my blood red nails typing at my keyboard. Never mind that I don’t make sense.


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