Monday, 11 June 2001

Monday. I hate Mondays. Mondays are the start of 5 looonng days. 5 days of not being able to curl up in bed and sleep in till the sun fries my bottom. 5 days of having to act responsible and adultlike. Sigh. Mondays. How I hated Mondays.

As usual, I'm late for work again. I don't believe I've ever been on time except for the first day I started here. It's not that I don't like my job. On the contrary, I enjoy it a lot. It's just the waking up part that's the bother. What do I do? I'm a copywriter with an advertising agency. Copywhat? Copy...writer. You know, the one who comes up with the headlines and words that try to convince some poor, unsuspecting fool why the more expensive and definitely much inferior product is the one they should be coveting rather than whatever it is they have that they're probably already satisfied with anyway. (Phew, caught your breath yet?) Ever wondered why copywriters are called copywriters? I have, and I still haven't figured it out. I mean, whoever came up with the name anyway? Copy? Who in the world would relate that to words in an ad? Copywriter? Oh, are you a lawyer? Can you give me some advice on this trademark case? Get the gist?

"Morning," a dull but familiar voice greeted me.

"Hi...and I thought I was late coming in today," I turned to my partner and smirked. No matter how late I strolled into office, I could always count on Jess to get in later than me.

She gave me a sickly sweet smile, grabbed her water bottle and headed out towards the direction of the pantry.

Jess was my partner. Partner? What partner? Partner in crime? Hmmm...I guess you could say that. Together we con the millions of gullible dimwits out there. She's an art director. And before you jump to any conclusions about who's the boss, let me just say there is no such thing as an art executive or an art manager. A simple description of our jobs would be, Jess directs the art and I write the copy. Although things are not always quite that simple, yes? But that's a different story altogether.

Jess returned from the pantry, sat herself down and slowly, rolled her chair over to my side. I looked at her questioningly. Yes, what is it you want? She had an impish grin on her face.

"You slut," she chuckled. "That was some party on Friday, wasn't it? How was Singapore?"

Just as I was about to answer, the phone on my desk rang. I pointed at Jess. Hold that thought, woman. I'll get back to you.

"Hello," I picked up.

"Wooohooo! Happppen-niiing, babe!"

I grinned into the receiver when I heard the voice. It was Terri, an ex-colleague and friend. My guess was she was refering to the party on Friday night as well.

"Did you get lucky?" she laughed.

"Funny. Har har," I scowled.

"Hey, I don't know. The way how *everybody* was all over you. Guys and *girls* included." Terri hinted.

I grimaced. Oh yes. I remember. Mag had filled me in on all the *juicy* details when we in Singapore. Apparently I had quite a time. What with Darren (that name again...sigh...I'm still trying to place his face) constantly planting kisses on my lips, Amanda licking my face, Kevin having his arms around me the whole time and Sharon been overly protective over me, I nearly fell off the chair I was sitting on when Mag had told me. You're kidding, right? You're pulling my leg and this is all a joke, right? Say yes, please. Uh uh, nope dah-ling. They're all true. Every single bit. All true, Mag had said.

Okay, you're either probably re-reading that paragraph above thinking you've read wrong or you've gone straight ahead and exclaimed, 'Oh, GROSS!' and have started throwing up. You're also very likely wondering just what sort of a person I am, right? Jess sure hit the target on the dot when she called me a slut, huh? Well, let me make this clear. I am no slut. I'm a self-respecting advertising professional making a decent living out of prostituting my ideas. Hang on, somehow that didn't sound right. Hmm...okay, so maybe I am a slut. In that case, Jess is one too, I scoffed.

Anyway, I digress. Where was I? Ah, Darren, Amanda, Kevin and Sharon. Darren, as you would know by now, is but just a blur figure in my mind, Amanda is a friend I had met through Jess, Kev is a colleague, and Sharon is Mag's colleague. About them being all over me? Somehow I didn't feel the least bit grossed out by the whole situation. I just shrugged it off as us having been really off our faces and had absolutely no idea what we were doing at all that night. I knew for a fact that Amanda and Kev were harmless and Sharon, well, I don't really know her that well but I would like to think she's harmless too. As for Darren, lets just forget about him entirely. I'd probably never seen him again anyway. Mag agreed with me. Hey, it was just some drunken fun, she had said. No big deal. Nothing *else* happened.

So, you're now also probably wondering about my sexual preference, huh? Hmm...well, I prefer men. But I haven't been with one for so long now that I've forgotten what it's been like. The last time I was in a serious relationship was 7 years ago. Yea, I know. Wow. That's like, once upon a time, eh?

I finished up my conversation with Terri and replaced the receiver. Jess turned towards me as soon as she had heard the click. She still had that silly grin plastered on her face.

"So..." she drawled.

And my phone rang again.

"Arghh! You're Ms *Popular* today, aren't you?" she exclaimed and rolled her eyes as she returned back to her work, leaving me to my call.

I gave a soft chuckle and picked up the receiver. "Hello."

"I'm bored...What are you up to?" the voice at the other end sighed.

"Hi Mag," I said.

"What are you doing today after work? Wanna go out for a drink after?" she asked.

"Woman! We drank on Friday. We drank on Saturday even when I was still trying to get over my hangover. We drank yesterday. And now you want to go drinking again tonight? Don't you ever get enough?" I exclaimed.

"Yea, yea. So, I'll see you at Oz for drinks later, okay?" Mag continued, ignoring my complaints.

"Uh, okay," I replied.

Sigh. Hey, it's alcohol. What did you expect me to do? Turn her down? Get real.

Finally, I turned towards Jess. She was busy strumming an air guitar, singing away while staring into her computer. I grinned and left her to her own devices. Fish chose to distract me at that moment too. Oh, I don't believe I've introduced you to Fish. Fish's my pet goldfish who resides in a bowl that sits on my desk and who persists in swimming upside down the whole time.