Love has so many meanings. It can be the love shared among the members of a family, as much as it can be the love between two partners. But for this week’s challenge, I’m going to emphasise on the greatest and most powerful love of all: Friendship.
From Wikipedia, “A workaholic is a person who is addicted to work. The term generally implies that the person enjoys their work; it can also imply that they simply feel compelled to do it.”
Okay… Personally, I don’t like factual definitions, thus let’s continue in my own way:
I’ve never really thought about it in the past, but I might be a workaholic. How?
The thing is I don’t only enjoy working (here, I don’t consider work as the thing you do to earn a living since I’m still a teen, but I’m talking about everything that demands physical or mental effort) or feel compelled to work (that would be school work) but I also search for work. What I mean is that I like to keep myself busy. I’d hate to remain idle one moment. That’s why I’ve got so many hobbies.
Maybe for some of you it’s not Wednesday yet, but here it is, early in the morning! Thus it’s time for… a wordpress Weekly Photo Challenge! (to see my blogging plans for this year, check out The Art of Planning a Blog)
This week’s theme is beyond.
And here’s my photographic interpretation:
This photo has been taken from my roof :P
Let me tell you that I have a blogging schedule, but that I don’t have one. Yes, I love paradoxes lately.
What I mean is that when I first started this blog, I had absolutely no clue where I was going with it. I posted at random, writing without being specialised in any niche, many posts a day or how often I wanted to publish something in the blogosphere during the week.
Then I started to have an audience. A small one at first of course, but for me, one faithful reader was enough for me to become a little more organised on my blog, since I’d despise myself for confusing or overwhelming any followers of mine.
Another Picture it & Write! And my contribution to this week’s picture…
The most tragic of all love stories is one in which two people secretly love each other and yet…
Tracy thought that she had never met such a man as Kev. To any girl of the school, he was just like any other guy: not too muscular, nor too fragile; not too keen on sports, nor too geeky; not too handsome, nor too disgusting. He had plain dark eyes and hair, and his dressing code was rather the same every day: a boring T-shirt and a used pair of jeans.