De E para N, 10:52 . Crónica dsd oficinas del INEM.Epis.2:dsd las 8 han avanzado hasta el nº A009, el mío es el A014. Los zombis sigen acomulandose en la puerta bloqueando la única salida existente.
Leo rápidamente mi manual de supervivencia intentando averiguar cual es la mejor arma con la k empezar a rebanar cabezas pero dsd mi posición no veo ninguna maza, hacha o catana... sólo una papelera. Sólo encuentro una solución: pasar inadvertida entre la masa de "no vivos" comportandome como uno de ellos. M levanto arrastrando torpemte un pie a cojer un folleto... Mientras sueño con un último café antes de ser devorada.
De N para E, 11:29. Sabes.. Lo primero es asumir k eres uno de ellos.. Ya somos 4 millones! Zombies relajados y con tanto tiempo libre! No los mates.. Aprende a kererlos! Muaak
De E para N, 11:40. Aki zombi2 a zombi1. Ya e sido convertida.A sido inevitable. El virus I.N.E.M ha infestado mi grangre, mis organos, mi cuerpo... Me veo obligada a vagar por playas y chiringuitos durante los próximos tres meses... Solo encuentro un único aspecto positivo en mi nueva forma "no viva": devorar carne fresca a tu lado.
Lily Allen, el descubrimiento de esta semana. Brutal, contundente y fresca.
Oh he treats me with respect He says he loves me all the time He calls me 15 times a day He likes to make sure that I'm fine You know I've never met a man who's made me feel quite so secure He's not like all them other boys They're all so dumb and immature
There's just one thing that's getting in the way When we go up to bed you're just no good Its such a shame I look into your eyes I want to get to know you And then you make this noise and its apparent it's all over
It's not fair And I think you're really mean I think you're really mean I think you're really mean Oh you're supposed to care But you never make me scream You never make me scream
Oh it's not fair And it's really not ok It's really not ok It's really not ok Oh you're supposed to care But all you do is take Yeah all you do is take
Oh I lie here in the wet patch In the middle of the bed I'm feeling pretty damn hard done by I spent ages giving head Then I remember all the nice things that you ever said to me Maybe I'm just overreacting maybe you're the one for me
There's just one thing that's getting in the way When we go up to bed you're just no good It's such a shame I look into your eyes I want to get to know you And then you make this noise and it's apparent it's all over
It's not fair And I think you're really mean I think you're really mean I think you're really mean Oh you're supposed to care But you never make me scream You never make me scream
Oh it's not fair And it's really not ok It's really not ok It's really not ok Oh you're supposed to care But all you do is take Yeah all you do is take
There's just one thing that's getting in the way When we go up to bed you're just no good It's such a shame I look into your eyes I want to get to know you And then you make this noise and its apparent it's all over
It's not fair And I think you're really mean I think you're really mean I think you're really mean Oh you're supposed to care But you never make me scream You never make me scream
Oh it's not fair And it's really not ok It's really not ok It's really not ok Oh you're supposed to care But all you do is take Yeah all you do is take
Look inside, Look inside, Your tiny mind. Then look a bit harder, cause we're so uninspired. So sick and tired. Of all The hatred you harbor, so you say It's not okay to be gay, Well I think You're just evil. You're just some racist. Who can't tie my laces, You're point of view Is medevil.
Fuck you, fuck you Very, very much. Cause we hate What you do And we hate Your whole crew So please Don't stay in touch, Fuck you, fuck you Very, very much Cause your words Don't translate And it's getting Quite late So please Don't stay in touch.
Do you get, Do you get A little kick out. Of being small minded You want to be Like your father His approval your after Well that's not how You'll find it Do you Do you really enjoy Living a life That's so hateful Cause there's a hole Where your soul Should be You're losing Control of it And it's really Distasteful
Fuck you, fuck you Very, very much Cause we hate What you do And we hate Your whole crew So please Don't stay in touch Fuck you, fuck you Very, very much Cause your words Don't translate And it's getting Quite late So please Don't stay in touchLook inside Look inside Your tiny mind Then look a bit harder Cause we're so uninspired So sick and tired Of all The hatred you harbor
Fuck you, fuck you Very, very much Cause we hate What you do And we hate Your whole crew So please Don't stay in touch
Fuck you, fuck you Very, very much Cause your words Don't translate And it's getting Quite late So please Don't stay in touch
When she was 22 the future looked bright But she's nearly 30 now and she's out every night I see that look in her face she's got that look in her eye She's thinking how did I get here and wondering why
It's sad but it's true how society says Her life is already over There's nothing to do and there's nothing to say Til the man of her dreams comes along picks her up and puts her over his shoulder It seems so unlikely in this day and age
She's got an alright job but it's not a career Wherever she thinks about it, it brings her to tears Cause all she wants is a boyfriend She gets one-night stands [ Lily Allen Lyrics are found on www.songlyrics.com ] She's thinking how did I get here I'm doing all that I can
It's sad but it's true how society says Her life is already over There's nothing to do and there's nothing to say Til the man of her dreams comes along picks her up and puts her over his shoulder It seems so unlikely in this day and age
It's sad but it's true how society says Her life is already over There's nothing to do and there's nothing to say Til the man of her dreams comes along picks her up and puts her over his shoulder It seems so unlikely in this day and age
Martes 21 de Abril. 16:50h. Comida de cierre de la temporada de calçots + vino + postre + siesta en manta tirada en el campo para bajar el vino antes de coger el coche.
Despedida. Parece la crónica de una muerte anunciada, una muerte ya vivida por casi cuatro millones de personas.
Recesión, crédito, liquidez, activo, pasivo, banca, Fondo Monetario... Ahora tu vecina del quinto ya no es limpiadora es economista y el panadero hace malabares para que le cuadre la letra de la hipoteca en número de bagettes a vender. La televisión, la radio, la prensa nos bombardea con miedo. Los bancos necesitan capital, la economia mundial se tambalea... Tenemos el culo tan apretado que ni un alfiler nos pasaria.
Pues yo me cago en la crisis, me cago en el dinero y me cago en los jefes sin escrupulos, tal cual, porque a optimista no me gana nadie. No tendre trabajo, iré jodida de dinero pero seré más rica que los últimos doce meses. Mi tiempo será mio, para mi uso y disfrute, para "invertirlo" con quien quiera y como quiera. A ver que nómina supera eso.
Hay que ser realistas. El asqueroso dinero es necesario en el mundo que hemos elegido. Paga nuestras hipotecas, paga nuestras necesidades más básicas, tristemente paga un porcentaje de nuestras vidas, en el sentido más explícito de la palabra. El dinero nos gusta, no vamos a rozar la idiotez ahora tampoco, sino nos iriamos a vivir al Nepal o a comer brotes de hierba en algun bosque perdido o a vestir con un taparabos a la selva... Pero personalmente no me viene de ser 100 euros más rica o más pobre mientras pueda seguir pagando mis puñeteras letras mensuales, tortuarias e insalvables. A partir de ahí me la sopla sublimemente el dinero y de donde venga: si de un jefe chupasangres, de mi libreta de ahorros o del Estado (que para eso he pagado mis impuestos con mi esfuerzo y mi tiempo).
No es el dinero lo que me enriquece, no me aportan mayor satisfación los bienes materiales, no es una "justa" y continua nómina lo que más (y remarco "más") felicidad me da, no me produce ninguna satisfacción ver como mi dinerito crece y crece en el banco si despues no tengo tiempo para disfrutarlo. Encerrada en una oficina de 8 de la mañana a 7 de la tarde, más el tiempo de los trayectos, llego a casa y siento que he tirado mi dia por la ventana, tan cansada que solo me apetece darme una ducha y meterte en la cama. Eso le quita doce horas a mi dia, y una media de 5-7 para dormir... ¿qué me queda para vivir? ¿para disfrutar? ¿para estar con los mios? Como decia Rubianes "¿El trabajo dignifica? ¡¡¡los cojones dignifica!!!".
Cambio Trankimacin para los nervios por la crisis por... Nasty Mondays, desayunos con Papi Juan, mañanas en la playa con Nura, siestas, largísimos paseos por la montaña con Dana, tardes de sol en el parque con mi sobrina, paseo por el mercadillo los viernes, escapaditas entre semana, pasar del microondas y comer caliente en casa, trasnochadas cinefilas, miércoles canibal, vermuteos a la una, los cinco minutos más de la mañana por una hora, cookies, pasteles y bizcochos recien hechos para merendar, "juernes", tomar una birra con Cesar y Juanjo a media tarde en la terracita, futbol entresemana, atardeceres en el balcón, trabajar desde casa, dedicar tiempo a proyectos personales, no hacer nada...
... y que les den por donde la espalda pierde su nombre a los jefes despotas amos de sus minireinos que ya volveré a pensar en trabajar para ellos... en algun otro momento.
