Right now I am in the internet cafe, trying to write a post while dealing with claustrophobia of sorts. The distance between two people in my left and right side is at maximum 8 inches only. The guy on my left is flirting with someone in Yahoo and his voice is so big I promise myself to bring earplugs when I come here again. I hate it when I can understand all his useless chatter.
I came here during my lunch break because I could no longer blog from the office due to strict and unreasonable internet rules. I can’t blog at home at night because I get distracted with the active toddler on the loose. Who would have thought, I still am ineffective to blog in this public internet cafe — my last resort to salvage my already erratic blogging schedule?
I took along a list of things I need to do at the internet cafe: write my Sunday Scribblings post for my other blog, write a book review, post my Saturday photo hunt and possibly concoct a Thursday Thirteen list or two. But what happened? I end up writing this rant. The internet cafe is not for me. I need to create a new schedule, possible involving waking up early in the morning at home.