At 11 pm, I was still cleaning my kitchen after a marathon cooking session. I made 4 kg of potato salad to go with the steaks I’m grilling  now.

Why am I punishing myself like this? I don’t know. Food is my love language and I just want to feed my extended family on my birthday, which is technically tomorrow.

I don’t want to be bothered on the day of my birthday so I did the feeding program today. Tomorrow I just want to stay in bed until it’s time for my spa appointment with my mom.

But I have a job interview tomorrow morning. Well, it’s not really a fulltime job; it’s a side gig. The partner of the firm that I have a sort of working relationship referred me to this company that’s going to call me tomorrow. They’re looking for a writer with investment and finance background and they couldn’t find someone suitable. I told the partner that I need to talk to them first before I commit because I don’t know if they expected fixed hours from me (they’re from a different time zone).

I don’t want to think about work on my break but let’s see if this is a good opportunity.

In the meantime, I realized during this break that I hate my job because I’m dreading going back on Monday. All because of that editor from the land of bubblegum pop. Why are the people from the country assholes?