Zee. 22. Singapore. Fine Art student. Procrastinator. Occasional insomniac. My favourite kind of gifts come in the form of books. Writing keeps me sane. Art keeps me busy. Music is universal. Europe is the place to be.

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Or maybe not.

Well, I did. Five fucking minutes. Puta madre. This is why you shouldn't be in bed, convincing yourself that you're "just going to rest my eyes for a few minutes" because those few minutes turned into hours for me. I woke up at ten, and the first thought was: What the actual fuck.

So I checked the Sunday TV schedule — no rerun of the match. There were reruns on Monday & Tuesday but I had other obligations to tend to.

It was just now that I finally get to watch it, though I tuned in at the 60th minute because I was vectorizing the hell out of those grapes on Photoshop, and needed a break. So I turned to the TV and — Hello! Di Maria and Adebayor came on.

I was told it was a frustrating game. I just didn't know how frustrating it was. THE BALL JUST REFUSED TO GO IN. Attitude much, huh, ball? The posts as well. Puta madre. So many chances. They kept attacking like crazy but, apparently, the ball has a life of its own. I'm gonna cut you up, bitch.

Fact: The other goalie was a busy man that night.

I'll be getting my weekly football fix earlier this week. Tomorrow is the match against Malaga. Kick-off is at 05:00AM. Again. I better not fall asleep. Again. No eye-resting. No lying in bed. No reading.

I miss watching Athletic Bilbao.

And I just need this Frenchman on here, mkay.

Confession: I'm a sucker for men in suits.