Sunday

84. Going green.

LIVING UNDER YOUR SPOTLIGHT.

I have no issues 'living under' Mr Ng Junda's 'spotlight' cause he has done nothing but showered me with love these days. Recalling the past two weeks...it would've taken a saint to be even minimally nice to me. I was, what you would've classified a psychotic, unbearable, prissy emotional wreck. And poor Mr Ng Junda not only had to put up with the tantrums, he literally bend over backwards to please me. THANK YOU!!! (: I know this won't suffice for the "torture" I put you through but I really, really appreciate the effort you made to keep a rein on your temper while mine went berserk and snapped at anything/anyone who drifted into my orbit.

Stress and lack of sleep. That's the best reason I can give for my intolerable behaivour. Even the doctor said what I experience is nothing that cannot be rememdied with a few days of sleeping in and sleeping in I did for the weekend! Do I feel better? Kinda. Particularly so with a doting boyfriend.

I think he's the best prescription ever.

On another note, Going Green holds two different meanings; besides reducing the usage of plastic spoons and saving Gaia (doing my part to Reduce, Reuse, Recycle), I've been hunting down these little green figures with the boyfriend. New obsession? Not quite. Let's just say he and Legos goes a long way back...

And though I consider myself quite a "creator", creating something of Lego didn't quite make it to my list of 'Successful Creations'. Legos never were my choice of toys. Toys were meant to bring joy to me and Legos... well, they made me frown. Nothing I create looks like what I INTENDED them to be and stubby fingers + no nails made it doubly hard to pry those darn 'bricks' apart.

Now, the boyfriend on the other hard has quite a knack for Legos and I'm just... playing along! (Poor pun) I've decided that Legos are fun, so long as I'm not the one putting them together!


*Spelling correction: Racce Recce

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I'm so in love with Edith Piaf’s “Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien.” Yes, you heard it from the movie Inception, the cue-song for the characters to wake up from their sleep.



Abrupt end, I need to get back to work. Oh, little green men, we've treated you well so be nice and pray along with me will you? To a better week ahead! (Flying kiss)

Thursday

83. Worst day of 2010.

IF YOU DON'T KNOW ME BY NOW
YOU WILL NEVER NEVER NEVER KNOW ME.

They say the reason people resisted getting out of bed sometimes is linked to the natural desire to regress to the womb. A place of solace. A place where we're totally protected from the chaotic world outside.

I feel like I'm in need of the "retreat to the womb" therapy today. Today was the classic bad day - a series of unfortunate events. And I seriously mean series. Funny thing is, I didn't wake up tripping out of my bed, slipping on the bathroom floor or missing my bus. In fact, the bus came the very minute I stepped into the sheltered bus stop and I'd naively taken that as a sign of a good day to come. Can I be more wrong. Right after the piece of good news Miss Wilson shared with us regarding our grades, I envision them slipping to the point of no return.

Being in Baking and Pastry scares the hell of me, yes. I feel totally out of place in there. Like a caveman in Willy Wonka's factory - I love looking at everything in there and of course eating but other than that, I am totally useless in the bakeshop. It's...so foreign to me.

Well, I didn't exactly do anything "wrong", but I didn't do anything right either. And the cherry on top of the sundae was spilling a jug of milk all over the floor. That highlighted my clumsy existence to the Chefs (particularly Chef Fum) and I can imagine all the profiteroles on the table singing in harmony, "..there's no point crying over spilled milk."

Fast forwarding to the evening, I accepted an offer to buy tissue from a handicapped in hope to ward off my bad karma & I was ripped off $2 for a SINGLE pack of tissue.

The madness won't stop, will it.