What WAS The Paradox Anyway?

So I have made (yet another) a vow to resume my senseless ranting here, in this little space tucked in the virtual corner of nobody-gives-a-shit, in hopes to retain my writing-sanity. We'll see how long this one lasts.

Writing too much of the same boring thing at work is starting to get to me, so I figure a place to unload all this streaming diarrhoea of words which are work-unrelated and totally self-indulgent would be cleansing, sort of like a mind detox.

Thank God the internet connection is back in this household. It's no Unifi (thanks to the management for not getting the cable installed into the building before the tenants started to come in), but it'll do. For now.

However as I am writing this sort-of a comeback post, there's two things that leave a slightly unsettling feeling in my stomach:

#1 What in the hell's name is a girl's paradox?

#2 I'm too lazy to create a new blog despite #1.

#1 is bothering me because what was the paradox anyway? What, am I a female trapped in a male's body? Which raises the doubt if I actually had really grasped the concept of a paradox after all at the time I came up with the name or was I just trying to be a try-hard, kind of like hipsters who like to quote lines from indie films that no one actually gets?

Which brings me to problem #2 which is not a problem but an internal obstacle that can or may be crossed with a little wee bit more willpower than what I possess now. But that can be justified by 'selective laziness' (which is the good kind of lazy, yes there's also the bad one; only those who are truly efficient be it in time management and/or energy conservation are familiar with this concept), is what I choose to call it.

I recalled something that a friend of mine told me some time last week. He asked me how come I appear to be so happy everyday?

What?

I beg to differ. I am not. I am the dark, cynical Max in '2 Broke Girls', not the chirpy, optimistic blonde Caroline (despite what my husband maintains; he thinks I am more like Caroline than Max, pffft). I am the erratic Julia Robert in My Best Friend's Wedding, not the miss-sunshine Cameron Diaz.

Life's just way funnier (read: less depressing) when seen through the eyes of a cynic.

P.S: I still can't come up with the paradox.

P.S.S: Who am I kidding, I am definitely more of a Caroline than Max. There.