Then Again

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I have lost my lan­guage pow­er.

A writ­ing assign­ment has been pass to me for the week­end, and I had spent count­less hour try­ing to think how can I write it. I know, it works that way.

Here I am, lying down on my com­fort­able bed at 2 am in the morn­ing New York time try­ing to write some­thing. Per­haps a switch of atten­tion would do some good, I hoped.

John had been lazy­ing around the house. While we try not to inter­fere with each oth­er’s work, it does get on my nerves when he tries to cook some­thing in the kitchen. The laun­dry, the deter­gent and the rest are just noth­ing some­thing that I want to men­tion right now.

Of course, oth­er than that he is real­ly being a good boy friend. He don’t dis­turb me when he knows I am work­ing on some­thing.

Writ­ing for a big cor­po­ra­tion does take it tolls. It’s like Car­ri­er Brad­shaw writ­ing for their week­ly col­umn of “Sex and The City”, things some­times get a lit­tle out of hand when you are try­ing to write about rela­tion­ships, and what not.

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