sickly sick
Back again from the mine. I don't even know whether it's good or bad to be back. I always look forward to the fly out day when I'm in the mine, but as soon as I'm back in Perth, step into the house, I just feel like walking out again. Should I set a date for my move-out-day? I mean, if I really wanted to, I could move out next month and be able to support myself.
Anyway, had a nice chat with the taxi driver on my way back from the domestic airport. This is probably the second millionaire taxi driver that I've spoken to in a month. There ARE people who actually enjoy working long hours, like 110 hours per week, because they don't know what else to do with their time. They are no secrets to their success, they're simply just hardworking people.
"Life, is what you make it!". Yup, John, the taxi driver, said it twice to me. Don't complain about your life, 'cos life -- is what you make it.
Anyway, had a nice chat with the taxi driver on my way back from the domestic airport. This is probably the second millionaire taxi driver that I've spoken to in a month. There ARE people who actually enjoy working long hours, like 110 hours per week, because they don't know what else to do with their time. They are no secrets to their success, they're simply just hardworking people.
"Life, is what you make it!". Yup, John, the taxi driver, said it twice to me. Don't complain about your life, 'cos life -- is what you make it.
I insist on complaining until I become a millionair...
Posted by
Anonymous |
April 05, 2005 7:43 am