It pays the bills

Am I becoming a workaholic?

.

.

.

.

Nah, that is so not me.

But I do get concerned (read: worried) and shoulder more than my fair share of responsibility when it comes to work. When I’m rushing deadlines for tenders there is absolutely no way I would slack off, I’d come in early (though I rarely stay late) and thoroughly stress myself out with work. So much so that I have trouble sleeping at night sometimes, tossing and turning and waking up at ungodly hours over and over again, running quotation figures in my head and having nightmares of missing that important deadline (which I never do anyway). I am even sometimes aware of struggling in that half-awake, half-asleep state.

But while I am not a workaholic (I greatly resent free time eaten into and wasted by having to come back to work), I do have difficulty cutting loose when urgent personal matters arise and I have to skip work to attend to them. I hyperventilate a little when worrying how they will cope without me, then reluctantly let it slide.

While I was complaining yet again about the volume of work I have, someone just asked me if I enjoyed my work. I said I don’t have time to sit down and think whether I do or not. But this I know, I won’t do it forever. This can’t be my calling, if there is such a thing. There is not much joy in it. It is just work, work, work; neither bad nor good, which for the moment, suffices.

It's that time of the year again

No, no, not Christmas (though I heard that Metrojaya has started selling Xmas decorations already :!), November. No wait, that didn't quite come out right, one more time: it's N-O-V-E-M-B-E-R!!!

I was counting the number of people (seperate groups and individuals) who would be taking me out for treats this month and have so far come up with 4 almost surethings. I'm deciding to ask those with good taste to get me presents instead and those with not so good taste to take me for crabs for which my craving has yet to be satisfied.

I'm surprised that I'm actually looking forward to it this year considering howI usually feel; old and alone. November is when everything comes into sharp relief but I haven't been able to give it much thought what with work and so many other interferences. I'll get round to it for sure, I always do.

For now I'll just imagine all the crustaceans I can eat and presents to die for.

Ahhh.....:)

Points of Note

• It’s been what, a week? A week plus? And I’m only just getting round to surfing the Net from home ever since it was set up.

• I wonder sometimes that I’m not quite there, here nor anywhere. Not quite right. Not quite settled. Displaced, disconnected, disjointed. It’s as if a manic child put a little Frankenstein together minus the green skin, stitches and bolts (though leaving it in would have been way cool)

• I wonder sometimes, what are the things I’m sure of. Life? Work? Relationships?

A: None of the above. So many years and it still hasn’t changed, not one tiny bit.

• You can only seem cool, funny, wise and entertaining to people who don’t know you. And that includes your friends. That is such an awful waste.

• Being thought of as cool, funny, wise and entertaining is such an ego boost. But when you lose that ‘regard’ a certain sense of self worth and esteem is lost. You can struggle to get it back, but you can never dazzle the way you once did. What follows is a phase of uncertainty and sadness.

• You are only as much as what others think you are. (The ‘others’ of whose opinion you care about of course).

• I could be anything. So why am I what I am? Why not reinvent when tired of your own skin? When tired of your own antics?

• I miss being on an even keel. Back then everything was sure. I was sure. The calm endured and rationality ruled. How much smug pride I took in it. How silly I seem now.

• What is it like to know that you have been a waste of time and effort? That you cannot provide returns equal or exceeding what you have received?

• I can never think when I’m around him. I’m just blank. It’s neither a good thing, nor a bad thing, it just is. And he wonders why I write instead of talk. It’s because I think when I’m away, and when that happens, there’s no one to talk to is there? And so I write. He doesn’t approve. But I am adamant. It is either this or nothing (at least until I can actually summon a thought in his presence). So a compromise is in order. It is clear his ‘beef’ with me writing is that he gets to know about things last after my ‘numerous’ blog visitors have been self-informed. Like ‘duh?’ No one reads this, I have the stats to prove it. (I don’t show it to him because I’m terribly embarrassed that no one knows I’m alive!) So I shall send every personal entry to him first so he is aware before I post. I hope it is appropriate and fair enough.

• (Oh man, I must really work on my writing.)

Self-help is no help

I just realised that it's damned difficult to buy a self-help book for someone if you don't believe in self-help books.

I spent most of my lunch time intently frowning at the self-improvement book shelves, picking up random books, flipping thru them carelessly, making rude faces when I spotted 'inspirational quotes' and then shoving it back; all the while sighing audibly and scaring the people in the adjacent Pyschology section (which so happens to be one very interesting section!).

Hmph. Time for another brilliant gift idea.

Kota Kinabalu

This is long overdue.

I just realized that this has been the first real holiday (company trips don’t count) of this year so it certainly deserves more than a mention. But rather than giving a blow-by-blow which will tire everyone out (especially this writer), I thought I’d pick out the things that struck me most.

I’ll admit that I didn’t know that KK was on the seaside, I somehow imagined it to be somewhere in the interior of Sabah. Yeah, my geography sucks dog’s balls.

Nexus Karambunai was a revelation, breathtakingly beautiful even when experienced on a very wet day. It was isolated, with a long coastline and a generous strip of white sand ending in clear blue waters. One of the best beaches I’ve ever been to. I’m glad you were there too to experience it, especially since you haven’t been to a beach in years!

The seafood dinner was good, am still wondering what that delicious mollusk with the uni-claw is called. Even the traditional dance performances, which I know bored the hell out of you and your family, were interesting. And when that white lady gave a war cry in response to the dancers, that just killed me. You do realize that your parents decided to go there for my benefit even though it was to celebrate your birthday?

On KK roads and traffic:

- there are a lot of 4-wheel drives on the road,

- there are a lot of U-turns and

- quite a number of “KK-ian’s” use their hazard lights when making a U-turn!

- On the way to Kundasang there was wildlife on the road and a strange number of cats that seem to have died of dehydration :!. This I assume because they were not splattered on the road like the usual road kill.

The trip to Kinabalu Park also afforded us some of the best views. The rain (yes, more of it) only enhanced the spectacle with heavy mists covering the hills and shrouding the valleys.

Sunset at Pantai Dalit was almost as gorgeous as Karambunai. A pity our foray into the water had to be cut short. A word of advice, recently shaven legs + salt water = stings like hell!! I hope some of my enthusiasm about beaches and the sea has rubbed off on you hun. But even if you’re still impartial towards them at least you know how I feel.

But mostly hun, it was how your family was so accommodating of insignificant little me. I felt that they made so much effort to go out of their way. I was both touched and a little shy at the fuss. You know how I prefer to fade into the background and blend in with the furniture, right? They made me feel welcome, and for that I am grateful.

So will it be Sepilok, the islands around KK, Sipadan and a traditional Kadazan wedding mid-next year hun? ;)

Thank you for the wonderful trip hun, if you didn’t already know, I had a great time.

Goings on

I should be doing one or more things, none of which I’m obviously doing at the moment. I’m not where I’m supposed to be, I’m not where I’m being paid to be. Sigh.

Oh well.

At the back of my mind I have this sneaky suspicion that introspection is bad. It’s so self-indulgent and so self-centered. It’s about being this person that whines on and on about this and that, going round in circles till she trips herself up only to get up and continue circling.

I can’t help but wonder sometimes that I would probably be better off just getting on with the world, picking up the pace, participate more, morph into a go-getter of some sort. And then I think, how decidedly mundane that is. Me, who more often than not, snorts in derision when encountering someone of that ilk. Of course one could argue that the contempt stems from jealousy, and I’ll admit maybe a little bit, but it’s also because I find their success and enthusiasm in all things material, shallow. Perhaps it’s just me but I imagine them lacking in depth. It’s not a big surprise then that I prefer the lot that bemoans the state of themselves and the world, finding their company infinitely more interesting and not to mention comforting and self-affirming as well.

Anyway.

Here I am waiting for the phone technician to arrive. He’s 20 minutes late and his tardiness annoys me. So what this means is that I’m finally going to get broadband fixed up in my place after having had it with being unable to blog in office or at home whenever inspiration strikes. I still write even without internet access but the time delay usually means that by the time I post it, if at all, the relevance has passed. Then again aside from blogging there’s a lot more I should be doing with and on the Net. The good thing is there isn’t any worry of getting addicted because if I had been so inclined it would have happened a long time ago. I just want to teach myself to make more use of it. Hm, think I’ll start by surfing porn sites. Oh yeah baby ;)

Win, win

If you stay, you’re a martyr.
If you leave, you’re justified.

I know this all too well.

Every so often it occurs to me,
You would be this good to anyone.

You would be this loving,
this kind,
this considerate,
to someone,
anyone else,
in my place.
It is just the way you are,
As I am sure you were before.

I think I could not hold on to you,
(Why should I need to?)
I think I do not deserve,
Someone this loving,
This kind,
This considerate
When I myself am not.

And you know this all too well

You were right.
There is nothing you could do better,
There is no need to question,
There is no area for improvement.

The insecurity is mine
The inadequacy,
Mine alone.

I keep asking why,
Because I see what you are,
I can see how I am,
And I despair at the disparity.

I talk about change,
But the setbacks,
(One step forward, two steps back)
bring me smack down to earth.

It is not bitterness, it is resignation.

Even as I write this I imagine you thinking “Oh no, not again! Not another round of reassurance. When will she stop? When will what I say be enough?”

There is no need for reassurance, not this time.

I wrote this a week ago, a week on and I’m surprised that it’s still relevant. In fact I could have written it months ago and not have had to change a single word.

I can’t find my voice; it’s choked at the lump in my throat. All the pent up frustration just turns into aggression simmering just below the surface. And I, I try to quell, to suppress, to smother, me.

I can’t stand me, I’m not fair to you, I’m sorry and I love you.

Who's watching you?

I feel exposed.

I’ve never liked people looking over my shoulder even while doing something as harmless like reading the newspaper. I especially dislike people (complete strangers, colleagues, friends and family, basically anyone) curiously looking at my laptop screen when they should be minding their own business. And I mean this in the nicest way possible, because some people don’t mean to be nosy.

So this morning while waiting for the lift on my way to the office, I bumped into the lady who sits at the desk behind me. We exchange smiles and greetings and then after some shuffling of feet and staring at the floor, she said:

“So, busy with work?”

I mumbled something about usually being busy but unusually free this week and then we parted ways.

Now, I’ve never spoken to this woman before. She most probably doesn’t know my name, what I do or even which division I work for, but instead of asking these standard ‘first conversation’ questions, she assumes I’m busy and asks for confirmation. Either that or she was being a sarcastic smart ass. Whatever it is, I am a little disturbed that she has been observing and that I have no idea what conclusions she has formed.

So I walked behind her desk today and realized that she has full view of my laptop screen. Damn, the stupid open office plan! I can’t wait till we move, though I doubt it’ll be any better. Hmph, double damn!

(Yes, I know what you’re thinking, wa-ay too paranoid)

The Little Boy in the Desert

I had a dream about a little boy in a desert. His mother left him (with suitcase in hand) up in the sand dunes. And as he stood rooted, (with lollipop melting in his hand) his shadow grew long. They had no faces, his mother and he. And though she left him, she went nowhere, for it was a painting I saw.

Things that make you go "Hmm"

It’s mid-afternoon, approximately another hour plus to go.

I should be busy, but I’m not. Not because I’m slacking off but because I’ve done all I can and now have to wait for others so I can continue. I would offer to help them but in this case, staying out of the way would be best. It seems that no matter how much you plan ahead and set deadlines, everything only comes together at the last minute. This is especially true when you need to depend on input from others. Just one tiny delay and the postponement snowballs and escalates up. Sigh. And so I wait.

I just hope it won’t be too much of a rush tomorrow with me having to leave early to catch the flight and all. Oh hell, who am I kidding?

********************

It’s September. Very soon it’ll be the last quarter of the year. (Yes, I AM stating the obvious). I was trying to recall the events of the past 9 months searching for memorable incidents and came up blank. It has something to do with my terrible sieve-like memory and a theory I came up with that perhaps so much has happened in the eventful 9 months that it’s difficult to single out any one memory. It’s neither good nor bad I guess, this inability to dredge up life’s peaks and valleys, it just is.

And so I start to think of the remaining few months and wonder what I’d like to achieve before the year ends. It’s not that the year-end is a do-or-die deadline but it is useful as a checkpoint to stop and take stock. Unfortunately I’ve also come up blank in this respect. Oh dear.

But it also seems that something like this (the lack of plans), which would ordinarily distress me, only raises the mildest ripple of concern now. It’s all very matter-of-fact, just a little something that makes me stroke my imaginary beard and go ‘Hmm’.

Chronicles of a (failed) birthday planner

4^th September 2006

10.30pm Monday

1 week remaining

Darling,

It’s less than a week till your birthday and I still haven’t got everything firmed down. Funny how I’ve been planning and conspiring for more than a month and still have yet to make up my mind. I just want things to be perfect hun. I want you to be surprised, delighted, touched and above all, have the best time of your life.

Today was a stressful day rushing to beat a deadline. And yet work was the least of my worries, I only stressed out when the credit card guy told me to expect my new credit card to arrive next week. Next week??!! How am I supposed to pay for your birthday hun? With a truckload of cash? It seems my plans are in danger of going up in flames.

And I know you hun, you don’t want too much fuss, just like me. But I do want to make a big fuss over you hun, if only to show I care enough to give it thought and make a great big effort.

Hmph. We’re always going to have problems making plans for and giving each other things. The other party is always too accommodating and wary not to cause the other person too much trouble. Neither of us is much of a taker, which makes giving that much harder.

Well I have a few days left with which to decide once and for all how we will celebrate the day. And hopefully, you will not have to reassure me when the time comes that you like what I’ve done while I anxiously wring my hands trying to gauge your ‘actual’ enjoyment level.

Oh hun, I’m way too neurotic for you!

Goodnight my love,

11.00pm

********************************************

5^th September 2006

6.45 pm Tuesday

6 days remaining

Hi hun,

I’m at the ‘mamak’ place round the corner from my house, ordered the same meal as usual.

I finally received my credit cards today. The office admin girl was a little taken aback by my enthusiasm at receiving the package, heh. Did you notice the plural? Yup, the dodgy credit card sales guy sold me two credit cards instead of one, further reinforcing my dislike for sales people in general.

I went to Bangsar at lunchtime today hun, specifically to order your birthday cake. I think I hemmed and hawed way too long for the helpful and very patient girl at the counter. I hope I made the right choice in the end, either way it will be too big for both of us to finish. Guess the housemates will benefit then.

Later that night I came over to do some research on dinner venues (I really must get broadband fixed up at home). I kinda had my heart set on Jogoya. It’s a Japanese buffet at Starhill Gallery, my colleague recommended it when we were out for crabs. Apparently though expensive, it’s supposed to be really good and with huge variety. Thing is there were some not so good reviews and I was having doubts as to the suitability of a buffet for birthday dinner. All the walking about getting food wouldn’t be conducive to conversation nor contribute to a relaxing meal. But I was still keen on Japanese and so tried to find other avenues. I narrowed it down to Genji in PJ Hilton, Kampachi in Equatorial KL, Zipangu in Shangri-La. I was already a little deflated by this time, because none of them seemed suitable. In fact I was to find out the very next day after calling all of them up that Sunday dinner was not a good option.

Back to square one.

***************************************

7^th September 2006

10.17am Thursday

(Pseudo-Wednesday)

4 days remaining

Hun,

I missed writing yesterday. Blame it on the sis and bro who wanted a chat after I got back. Could hardly chase them out of my room since I’m hardly around anyway. (ok, ok, that and my laziness combined J.

Yesterday was pretty eventful. Asked Chew Ling, Camillia and May Ching’s gay friend (he’s very in the know hun) for dinner venue suggestions. I was pretty panicky by then. He suggested this Austrian restaurant, supposedly quaint and cosy with good food to boot. I was thoroughly overjoyed, up until the point I was informed by their website that they close on Sundays.

So anyway after vetting thru all their other suggestions and finding none meeting my ‘exacting’ standards, I made up my mind to take you to Opus. Remember Opus hun? It’s a pretty cosy place, Italian, which you like, and we we’re supposed to go there for our first date. We never made it, but then again that’s another ‘adventurous’ story.

On my way to your place for dinner that night I decided to just make a quick detour to check out Opus. To my surprise I discovered that there are a few new restaurants open in the same row. One in particular looked very inviting. On hindsight it must have been because of the wine bottles lining the walls and the cellar like ambience.

I think I might have just hit pay dirt J.

Gotta go for a meeting hun, muah.

10.30am

*****************************************

9^th September 2006

10.42am Saturday

2 days remaining

Only 2 days to go. Ok, so I haven’t written for the past 2 days too. I have excuses!

Let me continue with the 7^th first.

(Pseudo-Thursday)

Got on the Net in the morning to search for the little place I discovered the night before and whaddya know, it serves Spanish cuisine. In fact it’s name, Cava means ‘cellar’ in Catalan. That did it, I finally made the decision. Consulted Chew Ling just to be sure and upon receiving her thumbs up, reserved a table for Sunday night. Looks like we’re good to go hun. I am pleased.

(Pseudo-Friday)

Went to that Austrian restaurant I was hoping to take you to, this time to celebrate May Ching’s birthday. It was as quaint and cosy as he said, but a little too noisy with all the chatter going on (us girls certainly contributed more than our fair share :P).

Before we dozed off for the night, we discussed our plans for the next day.looks like your heart is set on the jersey. I do hope the shops stock it hun,otherwise you will be quite disappointed.

Back to Saturday morning

9^th September 2006

How sweet to wake up next to you. To caress your sleeping face and feel such tenderness and then to chuckle to myself as you open your startled eyes at my touch and make grumpy noises of protest as you bury yourself deeper into the pillows.

We went shopping today. Achieved quite a bit: got your watch fixed, bought some gifts for your family (I’m not nervous, yet), and bought your birthday present! Is it really the best birthday present you ever received hun? Oh no, then I have my work cut out for me for your coming birthdays. But I am happy that you like it even though it couldn’t be a surprise.

You’re welcome hun.

********************************************

10^th September 2006

3.15pm Sunday

9 hours remaining

It isn’t a big deal for you I know hun. Makes me feel a little silly then making such a big deal out of it. Should you even read this? Would you feel embarrassed that your girlfriend has a juvenile fascination for birthdays when she should have out-grown it oh, I don’t know, maybe when she was 10? I feel as if I shouldn’t place any emphasis whatsoever, I should just be cool and blasé. I should ape you. But I am not you am I hun? So why even try pretend? I wonder if you will think all this is more for me to please myself than for you? Is this all proof that I don’t know you at all?

I am letting insecurity in as usual. It’s the rotten old side getting the better of me again. After all I know exactly how you will respond: with much love, comfort and understanding.

All will be well, I love you hun.

(It’s time to stop typing and wake you up from your nap)

It is: 3.30 pm

********************************************

11th September 2006

12.47pm Monday

One more thing hun, I almost forgot, Happy Birthday! :)

Just fine

Everyone seems to be in a relaxed holiday mood (or maybe that’s just me?). It must be because for most of us, it’s a 3-day week, and it’s already halfway through. Hurray! :)

I should be complaining of course: unexpected last minute work cropped up today with a ridiculously short deadline of early next week. Just another normal day I guess, and yet the mind boggles as to why the boss has approved my leave despite. However I am optimistic and remain calm even though usually, something like this would make me burst a blood vessel. It must be due in part to the much overdue management-enforced directive to take some of the load of my shoulders and put it back where it should belong. And the other part is perhaps me heeding the oft repeated gentle advice of much wiser people to ‘just do it’ instead of worrying and stressing myself out.

I am looking forward to this weekend, without the expectation of having a good one but being optimistic that it will be anyway. (Go figure! :)

Sunday, so far

It’s 4 o’clock in the afternoon and I am HOT, both inside and out. I think I’m running a fever. The sore throat hasn’t progressed into a cold but it has morphed into a cough. How sucky is it to get sick during the weekend instead of weekdays when you can take medical leave from work?

(It’s so very quiet and everything seems blurry, or is that just my eyes?)

And I’m tired. Slept for 4 hours, woke up at 5.30am, helped out at a work related function for 3 hours, drove back home, slept fitfully for 2 hours, then drove back again to waste another 4 hours until it ended. What a miserable way to spend a Sunday.

I hope whatever remains of the day will be much more pleasant. Fingers crossed.

The difference

Being capable of foresight now, I realize that in hindsight, I was never really lonely; at least not in the way I define loneliness. I equate loneliness with enduring sadness and despair and a deep aching for a meaningful connection with another.

To me, there’s a difference between being lonely and being alone which is what I was. It’s a state of existence that does not necessarily involve emotion. Being alone for me was never coming first to anyone, be it family or friends. I imagine this sounds harsh and ungrateful, but I’m not complaining, just stating facts. It was not that I wasn’t loved, but I knew that if push ever came to shove and a choice had to be made, there wouldn’t have been anyone remaining beside me.

There really was nothing to be resentful, angry or even sad about the seeming unfairness of it all. It was just the way things were and it went on long enough for it to become second nature, implicit even. And to an extent it even had it’s uses as a shield that prevented hurt from intruding. I was securely closed off, believing I didn’t need anyone to get by. I suppose I thought it was admirable since it took strength to be alone without realizing that it takes even greater strength and courage to take a gamble at trusting someone else. The other thing I’ve come to realize now is that loneliness is not a choice, but you can always choose to remain alone regardless of whether you are or not.

There were the occasions when the solitariness would overwhelm me, but looking back it was probably more self-pity than the very real pain of loneliness. So drifting along like that, it became an acceptable way to live and a not too terrible one either.

Now that I’m technically not alone anymore, the irony is that loneliness has become an absolute surety in some possible endings of a future that fortunately can’t be predicted. As scary as it sounds, it is the result of a gamble built on trust and there are no regrets to be had even when in pessimism the consequences are dire.

Dreams (Unfinished)

This morning I woke up from a sleep heavy with dreams. They (the dreams) have been increasing in volume and complexity over the past few days. Maybe there’s something about having deep long sleep minus the minor interruptions in the shape of mysterious jolts and random noises that is conducive to dreaming. These dreams are so immersing that waking up is a disorientating affair. The reality of time and place seem like rude intrusions to a fully fleshed out alternative universe.

Anyway, the dreams have been neither happy or sad nor anything else, quite devoid of emotion really. The feeling is that of floating along passively watching a story play out with some ‘surprising bits’ here and there. However it’s the surprising bits that stay. If you, like me, believe that our dreams are a manifestation (though often times warped) of our conscious and sub-conscious waking lives, then these bits have a way of alarming the dreamer. You start to wonder how your mind could have conjured up something so far out and if you are indeed so depraved and unbalanced.

I think I wanted to go somewhere with this, but seem to have lost my bearings.

That’s it.

Proof.

Senility has set in.

Lights, Camera, Action!

Cinema going has always been challenging. It typically starts with ‘touring’ the shopping mall parking lot at least a million times before you can lock on to & trail some poor hapless shopper that has inconveniently forgotten where he’s parked. Once in the mall, be prepared to jostle with the surging weekend crowd as you try and cut a path to the cinema floor only to resign yourself to lining up for ages in a snaking line only to get front row seats (that's if you're lucky to even get tickets!).

Well of course you can reserve tickets right? Wrong. By some secret conspiracy, weekend shows are always fully booked. I imagine an entire battalion of people hunched in front of their PC’s waiting for the very moment the show opens for booking on the cinema website.

Which bring me to the fact that last week we watched 3 movies in Cathay Cineleisure at The Curve: Pirates of The Caribbean Dead Man’s Chest, Superman Returns & Slither, the first one free and the last two, back-to-back. It just occurred to me that we’ve never done this standard couple extra-curricular activity ever before. And while we’ve occasionally exclaimed that we ought to ‘one of these days’ we never got round to it. Guess this time we might have been mysteriously bitten by the mainstream cinema bug.

Back to the movies, fortunately all were pretty decent. Slither was tongue-in-cheek funny in a totally gross-out way as only movies about alien slugs with nefarious plans to take over the world can be. Definitely recommended, however it's still advisable to watch on an empty stomach ;)

Superman Returns was a nicely rounded story. I didn’t expect much but it turned out well anyway. Must say that the Superman theme did stir memories, though not as strong as that of the Star Wars theme (Big fan, big fan. I remember getting all sparkly-eyed and almost bouncing in my seat with excitement during the opening theme of the Star Wars prequels even though they eventually turned out to be huge letdowns)

The best part of this rare cinema-going experience? The look of rapt attention, complete with ‘goggly’ eyes and gaping mouth of my movie mate who for all intents and purposes might as well not have stepped into the cinema since they stopped making silent movies!

So next in line to watch will be the new M. Night Shyamalan movie, Lady in the Water. The movie snippets seem quite promising. Now whether we watch it in the cinema or via other ‘alternative’ means remains to be seen.

Banter

Noun: banter bantur

1. Light teasing repartee

Verb: banter

1. Be silly or tease one another

Call it what you may, I find myself getting tired of it sometimes, even dreading it.

Case in point, I go early for my classes so that I might have time to sit down and have dinner. I’m usually the earliest one at the coffee shop since I work so close by. And as I wait for my food to arrive I find myself hoping against hope that none of my fellow trainees will join me. They always do.

I’d much rather sit alone with my thoughts and or let my mind wander off into the great unknown if I so please. But I find myself interrupted, which could be all right under certain circumstances except that the ‘conversation’ always involves a lot of teasing, ribbing, smart aleck comments and I find myself obliged to respond in kind or even defend myself sometimes. If it happened once in a while, it’d be refreshing even invigorating perhaps, but after one too many times (even though I can more than hold my own) I just get fed-up and find myself longing for privacy or some kind of meaningful conversation. Unfortunately I have to grin and good-naturedly bear it, because if I am moody or silent or calm and reflective, that draws even more attention.

Perhaps I am getting more and more anti-social: having less of a stomach for frivolity. I used to hold it (banter) in quite high regard actually, having some talent for it, but now it just seems…empty. Sure it’s good for a few laughs and it does break the ice. But how many times do you need to break the ice before you can go beyond it? I suppose if it never gets past that, then it’s time to walk away.

It’s raining, quite heavily. Astro’s out as is usual, not like I was watching it anyway, just had it on mute, flickering at me so as not to disturb a certain slumbering someone. It’s past 12 midnight which means essentially it’s Monday already. Hm, don’t feel blue yet, that’s good I suppose.

I was just thinking of how bored I always feel. Nothing seems to interest me very much. Life just seems to plod on at a sedate pace with nothing but drab scenery all around. Whenever I dwell on it for even a short period of time it’s enough to set of an extended round of moodiness and depression. Conjuring things to look forward to does help to an extent of making the drudgery more bearable but it’s just a temporary means.

I want a passion that lasts, an interest that sustains. I guess it’s the cliché of wanting to find meaning, a reason for continuing to live, a purpose. Without it, everything seems so trivial, so unnecessary, such a complete and utter waste of time. And all the while time just slips by unchecked. I dare not think about a future filled with this never-ending emptiness.

There has to be something more than this.

My kind of woman

There’s this woman where I work who wears brightly coloured brassieres under white shirts. Today it’s electric pink. Hm. Is she just clueless or is this what unattractive women do to attract attention? And she’s not the only one here. Inappropriately short skirts, low cut tops with unsupported jingling boobs (they bounce in step with her stamping feet: her usual mode of ‘walking’), loud brash voices and garish make-up are some of the other attention-grabbing gimmicks they employ.

Oh, they certainly get the attention they seek, but none of it is complimentary, and much of it falls under the category of ‘crude’. I should know, I’ve had to listen to the guys commenting while I remained neutral and tried not to wince. Perhaps these women should realize that overt, in-your-face posturing is just terribly unattractive and completely tasteless. Wouldn’t they rather be on the receiving end of admiration and regard? And I mean this in both the professional sense as well as in personal appearance.

My kind of woman would be unusual in appearance, unique, none of that conventional beauty for me. She’d be attractive but unselfconsciously so. She doesn’t try too hard and she doesn’t have to. She’d exude a quiet intelligence, evident in her eyes (sparkling bright) and her manner, collected and reserved. Her laugh is easy and her wit sharp. A genuine person with no hidden agenda’s but yet intriguingly mysterious all the same. She is her own person, a person that is, after my own heart.

And she doesn’t exist! More’s the pity.

Zipping by

Just after lunch and I’m sitting in the pantry writing with a packet of fruits as a convenient excuse. I could of course type this on my PC at my workspace but it’s too open and I’d feel uncomfortable with the possibility of people looking over my shoulder.

This is going to be a very short week. I’m on leave this Friday and out of office the whole day on Thursday for training. So essentially it’s Monday to Wednesday and it’s already Tuesday afternoon, oh joy!

There isn’t any particular reason for taking leave, just decided on the spur of the moment on one of those down-in-the-dumps days. A feeble attempt at making work more bearable I suppose.

So anyway I’m wondering what I should do this weekend. Hm. Ooo-kay. I’m all out of ideas, but still looking forward to it despite having no plans. It’s all good. :P