Boredom and Regrets

I wish I am super filthy rich so at times like NOW, when boredom eats me up, I will only have to go to malls to shop and shop.

Clothes.

Shoes.

 Bags.

I love shopping! But that’s just it. Just loving shopping. How I wish it to be loving-and-doing actual shopping at the same time. Too bad. That is just something a girl like me could not afford.

I was born neither poor nor rich. My parents are both government employees whose salaries range from 25-65K per month. I’d like to believe that, since I and my family eat thrice every day, we are in the middle. But the middle couldn’t afford shoes of Jimmy Choo and Givenchy, bags of Hermes, and clothes of Yves Saint Laurent, Monique Lhuillier and all other else whose names I couldn’t even spell. How pathetic, right?

Arrgh! I don’t like being bored. It makes me think of the life I should have had given the chance to live my life differently. My college credentials, humility aside, could make me a somebody, but I have chosen to be what I am today, simple and un-luxurious, because of circumstances I couldn’t help changing, and people I couldn’t help giving up.

I hate boredom. It just makes me entertain regrets. And I don’t like regrets. AT ALL.