what does the passing of time gives you? besides wrinkles and slower metabolism, confidence. or is it simply that you don't really give a damn anymore? i find my tongue looser with age, that i have a higher tendency to say what is at the top of my mind, without care of consequences or deliberation, without bothering how it will be interpreted. i have been misunderstood more than once, more than twice, so many times that i have lost count. but i seem to be less perturbed by it. and i marvel at why that is so.
perhaps it is the art of communication that i am lacking. maybe it's in literal presentation that something is misinterpreted. the only place i seem to be able to express myself is here, in my blog. elsewhere, out of this imaginative world, i am at a lost - to explain myself, to express myself, to portray what i am. it is too much effort. i am too lazy. or is it because i simply do not see why i need to try so hard. just to be myself. if others can't see who i am, am i at the losing end, or are they?
on reflection, i have people mistaking my loose tongue for ulterior motives in friendship, my seemingly sudden enthusiasm for closeness as a scheming maneuver for their privileged lifestyle. i should have been hurt perhaps, especially when a friend of many years whom i have lost contact with also shares the same opinion, but the absurdity of such suggestion only makes me chuckle inwards. if only they knew. and so i let it be.
sometimes, i ask myself. perhaps it's me? sigh. in this world where walls are high and compassions are low, people read into situations with a lot more caution. self protection. who can blame? that is the way this world has evolved. perhaps i am also guilty of as much defence. who bothers to answer one question with a hundred words anymore? who will look up lost friends with such enthusiasm? unless one has ulterior motives. when the phone rings, i pick it up and wait for the caller to go through the usual niceties of 'good morning', 'how have you been?', 'how are the children?', 'how are your parents?', 'have you been on holiday recently?' and a whole multitude of polite mannerism before they embark on their purpose for calling. i am weary. so i understand. yet i do not attempt in any way to change; who i am, how i communicate or how others see me.
age has made me less concerned about the opinions of others. time has taught me that friendship is not the meeting of two people. it is a collision of fate. fate that we will meet. fate that we will become friends, against all odds. fate that we have remained friends. i have lost too many friends that i value through the cruelties that we call life. i do not seem to have the strength to foster new ties. let fate play its card.
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
worn out
i spread myself too thin, i know that. like a piece of toasted bread with a very thin veil of butter, hardly any taste of the soft velvety richness that melts in the mouth. that is the problem when you spread yourself too thin. but we live our life the only way we know how, the only way that works for us. i have been too fortunate in my life, this is the only way i know to give back; to give love to others and to be there for others.
i get tired too. physically worn out. sometimes i try too hard. i refresh by remembering the beautiful things that bring joy to my heart, the kaleidoscope of memories that is in my head. like the drive in the night i wrote about a few weeks ago. like that beautiful glimpse of starbucks that day when i walked past, window all misty, inside all red, warm and chrismassy. like the hugs i get from people who care. like the basking in the sun that is very imminent. all these are things that make me tick. that make me whole again.
i get tired too. physically worn out. sometimes i try too hard. i refresh by remembering the beautiful things that bring joy to my heart, the kaleidoscope of memories that is in my head. like the drive in the night i wrote about a few weeks ago. like that beautiful glimpse of starbucks that day when i walked past, window all misty, inside all red, warm and chrismassy. like the hugs i get from people who care. like the basking in the sun that is very imminent. all these are things that make me tick. that make me whole again.
Monday, November 16, 2009
parenting 101
sunday was about de-cluttering. there wasn't much to do. no groceries to buy, no errands to run, so i decided to start clearing up the children's school books. another year, another end to the school term. time to sort out the old ones, recycle the disused books, tear out the unused papers for scrap and clean out the cupboards.
so many hours later, after much back-breaking labour, i have finally cleared little princess' shelves and was halfway through little batman's. their cupboards were once again empty to receive the new books for the next school year.
little princess has been helping me throughout the morning. only towards the end, just when we were going to break for lunch, she asked, 'mum, did you throw away all my books?'. i wonder what we were doing for the last 3 hours. did an alien possessed my daughter and just now released her body and brain? 'i still have one more week of class?'. gasp! errrr..... in my enthusiasm to get rid of the clutter, i have forgotten that they may still need the books. after all, exams are already finished and they have started teaching next year's scope. why do they need the old books? still, daughter wasn't easily appeased. 'i still need some of those books'. she couldn't tell me that when we were just starting.
if teacher asks you why you didn't bring your book, just go, 'oh, oh, i have a stomach ache. i need to go to the nurse'. and then come back to class only when it is over. and if the next teacher also asks you the same thing, go 'oh, oh, i have a stomach ache' again.
sigh. some parents. the nonsense that they are teaching their kids.
so many hours later, after much back-breaking labour, i have finally cleared little princess' shelves and was halfway through little batman's. their cupboards were once again empty to receive the new books for the next school year.
little princess has been helping me throughout the morning. only towards the end, just when we were going to break for lunch, she asked, 'mum, did you throw away all my books?'. i wonder what we were doing for the last 3 hours. did an alien possessed my daughter and just now released her body and brain? 'i still have one more week of class?'. gasp! errrr..... in my enthusiasm to get rid of the clutter, i have forgotten that they may still need the books. after all, exams are already finished and they have started teaching next year's scope. why do they need the old books? still, daughter wasn't easily appeased. 'i still need some of those books'. she couldn't tell me that when we were just starting.
if teacher asks you why you didn't bring your book, just go, 'oh, oh, i have a stomach ache. i need to go to the nurse'. and then come back to class only when it is over. and if the next teacher also asks you the same thing, go 'oh, oh, i have a stomach ache' again.
sigh. some parents. the nonsense that they are teaching their kids.
saturday
saturday was about family and friendship.
little batman's concert was in the morning. the schedule was for parents to arrive at 9.30 am. i think we arrived slightly earlier than that, to be greeted by a mammoth crowd of parents already gathering outside the hall, waiting for the doors to open and be admitted within. by the time we could make our way in, most of the seats were taken. we were left with not-so-favourable ones and i ended up holding the tripod stand on the chair, between my legs, like an enormous joss-stick reaching up into the sky throughout the show. ok, that was because i was dumb enough to bring a tripod that was not long enough, but then if i had good seats, like the very first row, i didn't have to do that to avoid the sea of heads. should have just ta-paued my bee hoon soup and squat infront of the hall first thing in the morning after we dropped little batman off. that kiasu i am not. so i contend with holding the giant joss-stick for the entire show. i tried to make little princess scurry between the legs of the parents and rush into the hall when the doors open, like the little rabbit that she is, or perhaps squirm on the floor like a snake but she refused. sigh. kids nowadays, you just can't make them do dumb stuffs anymore.
afternoon was about friends. old friendship. a friend of 27 years was holding a first birthday party for his daughter. we had to walk all the way to the venue. how cruel. no transportation. we couldn't find anybody who could give us a ride. it was also raining quite heavily. so, we walked in the rain, all in the name of friendship, the 100 steps to the venue. to say that it was very near my house is an understatement. there is some satisfaction from going to a party that is so close in proximity, i don't know why. the very idea of just walking down there, eat, smack your bums and walk back up to the comfort of your own home is extremely appealing. more people should hold parties and get-togethers next to my place. :-p
the creme of the cake was perhaps in the evening. driving back from dinner, it was slightly misty and the night was cool. all around was pitch black, except for the red, yellow and white lights from the hustle and bustle of city life. the rain made the lights flared and diffused, almost magical, shining through the windshield. it was like i was lost in time, in another country, in another moment, where nothing mattered, where everything is beautiful, where contentment is perpetual. i drove as slowly as i could. i carry the picture of that beautiful night with me, for as long as i can.
little batman's concert was in the morning. the schedule was for parents to arrive at 9.30 am. i think we arrived slightly earlier than that, to be greeted by a mammoth crowd of parents already gathering outside the hall, waiting for the doors to open and be admitted within. by the time we could make our way in, most of the seats were taken. we were left with not-so-favourable ones and i ended up holding the tripod stand on the chair, between my legs, like an enormous joss-stick reaching up into the sky throughout the show. ok, that was because i was dumb enough to bring a tripod that was not long enough, but then if i had good seats, like the very first row, i didn't have to do that to avoid the sea of heads. should have just ta-paued my bee hoon soup and squat infront of the hall first thing in the morning after we dropped little batman off. that kiasu i am not. so i contend with holding the giant joss-stick for the entire show. i tried to make little princess scurry between the legs of the parents and rush into the hall when the doors open, like the little rabbit that she is, or perhaps squirm on the floor like a snake but she refused. sigh. kids nowadays, you just can't make them do dumb stuffs anymore.
afternoon was about friends. old friendship. a friend of 27 years was holding a first birthday party for his daughter. we had to walk all the way to the venue. how cruel. no transportation. we couldn't find anybody who could give us a ride. it was also raining quite heavily. so, we walked in the rain, all in the name of friendship, the 100 steps to the venue. to say that it was very near my house is an understatement. there is some satisfaction from going to a party that is so close in proximity, i don't know why. the very idea of just walking down there, eat, smack your bums and walk back up to the comfort of your own home is extremely appealing. more people should hold parties and get-togethers next to my place. :-p
the creme of the cake was perhaps in the evening. driving back from dinner, it was slightly misty and the night was cool. all around was pitch black, except for the red, yellow and white lights from the hustle and bustle of city life. the rain made the lights flared and diffused, almost magical, shining through the windshield. it was like i was lost in time, in another country, in another moment, where nothing mattered, where everything is beautiful, where contentment is perpetual. i drove as slowly as i could. i carry the picture of that beautiful night with me, for as long as i can.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
apprehension
the doctor called me back into the room after we walked out. shit, this can't be good. she went into a rather loud talk about how the medicine should be taken. she is making no sense. then i realise it was because the door hasn't closed fully yet.
when the door was shut, she explained to me that there could be two conditions that is causing the stiffness in mum's hands; some kind of nerve lession and ..... parkinson's. i can't believe what i was hearing. all the while in my brain was the conscious thought that she is out there and probably very worried about the doctor calling me back into the room. the words that the doctor was saying is not going into my brain. it is just a probability. but not one that i want to hear or believe in. when the doctor told her that she must have a brain mri earlier, her eyes were already glazed and suspiciously red. it is only a possibility, and we need to see if she responds to the medicine for 2 weeks, so there is no reason to frighten her for the time being. meanwhile, i am terrible frightened, and shocked.
as i exit from the room, i must put on a brave face and pretend all the doctor told me was instructions on how to take the medicine. she kept asking me. my mother has always been amazingly sharp. i stuck to my story. she kept asking. i kept repeating. inside, nobody knows the turmoil building inside. the fear. the loneliness. i had to face it all alone. this doesn't surprise me, that has been and always be the story of my life. i must get use to it. sometimes when my thoughts drift back to all the scary possiblities, on the reflection of what the doctor has told me, i had to pull myself back all immediately, so that she will not perceive the change in my mood. why was all this thrust on me and just me alone? i wasn't prepared. i couldn't text anyone. i couldn't call anyone. bro called just as i was picking up the medicine. i couldn't talk, i couldn't tell him. i told him later, i was busy. thank goodness it was the correct timing.
it will seem that i always face each hurdle with a lack of emotion, an alien sense of detachment, just so that i can carry out the process of caring, of taking care and giving emotional support. i could not indulge in grieving, in deliberating, otherwise i will break down myself. i stop myself from thinking, from feeling. that is the only way i can continue.
this will be the first time that we do not want the medication to work. the only time when its ineffectiveness spells good news. but, after that, then what? where do we go from here? it's going to be a very long road. and we can only take it one step at a time.
when the door was shut, she explained to me that there could be two conditions that is causing the stiffness in mum's hands; some kind of nerve lession and ..... parkinson's. i can't believe what i was hearing. all the while in my brain was the conscious thought that she is out there and probably very worried about the doctor calling me back into the room. the words that the doctor was saying is not going into my brain. it is just a probability. but not one that i want to hear or believe in. when the doctor told her that she must have a brain mri earlier, her eyes were already glazed and suspiciously red. it is only a possibility, and we need to see if she responds to the medicine for 2 weeks, so there is no reason to frighten her for the time being. meanwhile, i am terrible frightened, and shocked.
as i exit from the room, i must put on a brave face and pretend all the doctor told me was instructions on how to take the medicine. she kept asking me. my mother has always been amazingly sharp. i stuck to my story. she kept asking. i kept repeating. inside, nobody knows the turmoil building inside. the fear. the loneliness. i had to face it all alone. this doesn't surprise me, that has been and always be the story of my life. i must get use to it. sometimes when my thoughts drift back to all the scary possiblities, on the reflection of what the doctor has told me, i had to pull myself back all immediately, so that she will not perceive the change in my mood. why was all this thrust on me and just me alone? i wasn't prepared. i couldn't text anyone. i couldn't call anyone. bro called just as i was picking up the medicine. i couldn't talk, i couldn't tell him. i told him later, i was busy. thank goodness it was the correct timing.
it will seem that i always face each hurdle with a lack of emotion, an alien sense of detachment, just so that i can carry out the process of caring, of taking care and giving emotional support. i could not indulge in grieving, in deliberating, otherwise i will break down myself. i stop myself from thinking, from feeling. that is the only way i can continue.
this will be the first time that we do not want the medication to work. the only time when its ineffectiveness spells good news. but, after that, then what? where do we go from here? it's going to be a very long road. and we can only take it one step at a time.
Monday, November 09, 2009
on my way to eccentricity
in my old(er) age, i find myself getting more eccentric. more whimsical. i find it harder to hold my tongue. or is it that i don't want to anymore.
i slid into the booth chair and the seat coverings are torn, patchy and run down. the waitress approaches to take our orders. the first thing i tell her is that the seats are run down and to tell the owner to change it. i have no doubt that what i said to her went in one ear and out the other. nevertheless, i wanted to say it. i had to say it.
he handed me a box of very wet, very black noodles, all soggy and unappetising. this is penang fried kway teow, i asked him. yes, penang fried kway teow is the wet one. the kway teow goreng is the dry one. many people have that mixed up, he replied. no way!! you can't have visited penang! the famous penang char kway teow, by the two sisters, next to the big tree, is the yummiest lightest DRY kway teow ever fried. it's so well-known. 'i'm from butterworth', he claimed. 'the fried kway teow there is wet'. what is this? a racial difference thing? theirs are wet whilst ours are dry? anyway, if you use the phrase penang char kway teow anywhere, everybody knows it's the dry type. 'do you want to change it, miss?', that man finally offered. no, it's ok, i rejected his offer, and continued to argue with him over the authenticity of his 'penang char kway teow'. after another few minutes, he offered again, 'miss, nevermind i'll change it for you, you wait for a few minutes'. he must be very frustrated. and very thirsty. he was desperate for an end. no, it's alright, and again i launched into the difference between the food. even when i don't intend to change the course of actions or the results, i enter into a verbal debate. for what? what possible purpose can it fulfil except as an outlet for my verbal diarrhoea. sometimes it is the principle of the matter.
i'm old, i'm eccentric. perhaps this is the arrogance of the old.
i slid into the booth chair and the seat coverings are torn, patchy and run down. the waitress approaches to take our orders. the first thing i tell her is that the seats are run down and to tell the owner to change it. i have no doubt that what i said to her went in one ear and out the other. nevertheless, i wanted to say it. i had to say it.
he handed me a box of very wet, very black noodles, all soggy and unappetising. this is penang fried kway teow, i asked him. yes, penang fried kway teow is the wet one. the kway teow goreng is the dry one. many people have that mixed up, he replied. no way!! you can't have visited penang! the famous penang char kway teow, by the two sisters, next to the big tree, is the yummiest lightest DRY kway teow ever fried. it's so well-known. 'i'm from butterworth', he claimed. 'the fried kway teow there is wet'. what is this? a racial difference thing? theirs are wet whilst ours are dry? anyway, if you use the phrase penang char kway teow anywhere, everybody knows it's the dry type. 'do you want to change it, miss?', that man finally offered. no, it's ok, i rejected his offer, and continued to argue with him over the authenticity of his 'penang char kway teow'. after another few minutes, he offered again, 'miss, nevermind i'll change it for you, you wait for a few minutes'. he must be very frustrated. and very thirsty. he was desperate for an end. no, it's alright, and again i launched into the difference between the food. even when i don't intend to change the course of actions or the results, i enter into a verbal debate. for what? what possible purpose can it fulfil except as an outlet for my verbal diarrhoea. sometimes it is the principle of the matter.
i'm old, i'm eccentric. perhaps this is the arrogance of the old.
sincerity doubted
some people think that i befriend them for a hidden agenda. other than a genuine offer of friendship, of course. which in itself is already quite rare on my part. i find it to be quite preposterous. if only they know of me, my background, my life. but they don't. and i don't have any intention to enlighten them. after all, it is their loss and not mine.
perhaps i can do more to eleviate their concerns, their doubts. but i don't want to. i have never liked explaining myself.
perhaps i can do more to eleviate their concerns, their doubts. but i don't want to. i have never liked explaining myself.
whimsical monday
if i live in a house, as opposed to an apartment, and
if i live in a country with four seasons....
i will plant a lemon tree.
a yellow lemon tree in the corner of my garden.
and all that i can see is just a yellow lemon tree.
a big tree, full of yellow lemons. lemons in my salad, lemons in my house, lemons in my drink, lemons everywhere. i'll be sick of lemons very soon. but not now. now i like lemons. yet i forget about them as soon as i buy them and leave them to dry out in my fridge. i'm sorry, lemon no. 1. i'm sorry, lemon no. 2. i'm sorry, lemon no. 3. and their many many siblings.
if i live in a country with four seasons....
i will plant a lemon tree.
a yellow lemon tree in the corner of my garden.
and all that i can see is just a yellow lemon tree.
a big tree, full of yellow lemons. lemons in my salad, lemons in my house, lemons in my drink, lemons everywhere. i'll be sick of lemons very soon. but not now. now i like lemons. yet i forget about them as soon as i buy them and leave them to dry out in my fridge. i'm sorry, lemon no. 1. i'm sorry, lemon no. 2. i'm sorry, lemon no. 3. and their many many siblings.
Wednesday, November 04, 2009
better life
my driver pushes the seat back and lies down for a nap in the van, in the luxury of a fully air-conditioned surrounding, whilst he waits for me. other times, he sits in there, away from the hot scalding sun, and pours over his newspaper. one newspaper lasts him the whole day for his reading pleasure. he reads them from cover to cover. why not? he has all the time in the world. bored, he will alight and seek out his nearby acquaintance for a chat or some small talk. all the drivers in the world are part of a secret society, they seem to know each other. if they don't, no problem, they'll know each other in a matter of few seconds.
lunch is several hours long when the boss doesn't require his service, which usually she doesn't. work is over at 4 when the last job of the day is done. sometimes, work entails driving here and there, delivering this and that. it's all still very light-weight stuff. no pressure, no competition, no office politics, no complications. pay may not be high, but it's enough to live by. not enough for that month? just come in for a few more hours for more chat with friends, and more hanging around. sick, just take the day off. not feeling like coming for work, just take another day off.
meanwhile, i'm slaving away in front of the computer and desk night and day. i'm beating deadlines, i'm rushing to get more stuffs done. sick or healthy, i still have to deliver. can't let a little thing like that baby who is kicking and pushing to get out from the stomach stop me from meeting deadlines. i work till my back is sore and my shoulder tight.
sometimes i wonder, who got it good? whose life is what we should be striving for? more work, more money? why do we need so much money anyway? to put our kids through a good university, yes i forgot. but do we need so much more than that? we work so hard so that we have more money, so that we can then live an easy life. which he is already doing at the moment. sometimes you get so caught up that you just can't stop, you can't unwind. knowing how to be contented is a difficult art. just when you think you know, then you stop and think, is your life really better than his?
lunch is several hours long when the boss doesn't require his service, which usually she doesn't. work is over at 4 when the last job of the day is done. sometimes, work entails driving here and there, delivering this and that. it's all still very light-weight stuff. no pressure, no competition, no office politics, no complications. pay may not be high, but it's enough to live by. not enough for that month? just come in for a few more hours for more chat with friends, and more hanging around. sick, just take the day off. not feeling like coming for work, just take another day off.
meanwhile, i'm slaving away in front of the computer and desk night and day. i'm beating deadlines, i'm rushing to get more stuffs done. sick or healthy, i still have to deliver. can't let a little thing like that baby who is kicking and pushing to get out from the stomach stop me from meeting deadlines. i work till my back is sore and my shoulder tight.
sometimes i wonder, who got it good? whose life is what we should be striving for? more work, more money? why do we need so much money anyway? to put our kids through a good university, yes i forgot. but do we need so much more than that? we work so hard so that we have more money, so that we can then live an easy life. which he is already doing at the moment. sometimes you get so caught up that you just can't stop, you can't unwind. knowing how to be contented is a difficult art. just when you think you know, then you stop and think, is your life really better than his?
in need of medicine
friends. why do we seek out the company of some and shun others? for all sorts of reason; social standings, common interest, familiarity, even physical proximity to home. for me, the reason is simple. i am drawn to those who make me laugh. not that i will shun others who don't, but i find myself drawn to companionship that makes me exercise the gut muscle. laughters, who doesn't like to laugh. getting older, i find that i hear my own laughters less often. that once familiar sound which flitters nearby when i'm nervous, excited and most certainly when i'm happy, is like a distant relative now. it seldom comes for a visit.
is it more difficult to make me laugh now? no, at least i don't think so. i'm willing, even desperate to laugh myself silly over the smallest of thing but it seems opportunities are rare and far in between. quick, tell me a joke, i promise i'll laugh. i'll even tickle myself if it would help, but unfortunately i'm not ticklish. perhaps, that tells a lot about my frame of mind. joke books are read with an occasional snicker or more usually, a bored and impervious countenance. i even tell jokes with a straight face nowadays! i'm really scrapping the bottom of the barrel.
why is it so difficult to seek for laughters? of all my friends, i only know one or two who makes me laugh. and most definitely, not female. aren't women funny? is that why most stand-up comedians, and clowns for that matter, are men? maybe men are natural born jokers. ha. did you see that? even literally, my laughter has been reduced to a single 'ha' instead of the usual 'ha-ha'. life is pathetic. i need a dose of laughter medicine.
is it more difficult to make me laugh now? no, at least i don't think so. i'm willing, even desperate to laugh myself silly over the smallest of thing but it seems opportunities are rare and far in between. quick, tell me a joke, i promise i'll laugh. i'll even tickle myself if it would help, but unfortunately i'm not ticklish. perhaps, that tells a lot about my frame of mind. joke books are read with an occasional snicker or more usually, a bored and impervious countenance. i even tell jokes with a straight face nowadays! i'm really scrapping the bottom of the barrel.
why is it so difficult to seek for laughters? of all my friends, i only know one or two who makes me laugh. and most definitely, not female. aren't women funny? is that why most stand-up comedians, and clowns for that matter, are men? maybe men are natural born jokers. ha. did you see that? even literally, my laughter has been reduced to a single 'ha' instead of the usual 'ha-ha'. life is pathetic. i need a dose of laughter medicine.
Tuesday, November 03, 2009
model life
he pushes the seat back and lies down for a nap in the van, in the luxury of a fully air-conditioned surrounding, whilst he waits for me. other times, he sits in there, away from the hot scalding sun, and pours over his newspaper. one newspaper lasts him the whole day for his reading pleasure. he reads them from cover to cover. why not? he has all the time in the world. bored, he will alight and seek out his nearby acquaintance for a chat or some small talk. all the drivers in the world are part of a secret society, they seem to know each other. if they don't, no problem, they'll know each other in a matter of few seconds.
lunch is several hours long when the boss doesn't require his service, which usually she doesn't. work is over at 4 when the last job of the day is done. sometimes, work entails driving here and there, delivering this and that. it's all still very light-weight stuff. no pressure, no competition, no office politics, no complications. pay may not be high, but it's enough to live by. not enough for that month? just come in for a few more hours for more chat with friends, and more hanging around. sick, just take the day off. not feeling like coming for work, just take another day off.
meanwhile, i'm slaving away in front of the computer and desk night and day. i'm beating deadlines, i'm rushing to get more stuffs done. sick or healthy, i still have to deliver. can't let a little thing like that baby who is kicking and pushing to get out from the stomach stop me from meeting deadlines. i work till my back is sore and my shoulder tight.
sometimes i wonder, who has got it good? whose lifestyle should be striving for? more work, more money? why do we need so much money anyway? to put our kids through a good university, yes i forgot. but do we need so much more than that? we work so hard so that we have more money, so that we can then live an easy life. which he is already doing. sometimes you get so caught up that you just can't stop, you can't unwind. knowing how to be contented is a difficult art. just when you think you know, then you stop and think, is your life really better than his?
lunch is several hours long when the boss doesn't require his service, which usually she doesn't. work is over at 4 when the last job of the day is done. sometimes, work entails driving here and there, delivering this and that. it's all still very light-weight stuff. no pressure, no competition, no office politics, no complications. pay may not be high, but it's enough to live by. not enough for that month? just come in for a few more hours for more chat with friends, and more hanging around. sick, just take the day off. not feeling like coming for work, just take another day off.
meanwhile, i'm slaving away in front of the computer and desk night and day. i'm beating deadlines, i'm rushing to get more stuffs done. sick or healthy, i still have to deliver. can't let a little thing like that baby who is kicking and pushing to get out from the stomach stop me from meeting deadlines. i work till my back is sore and my shoulder tight.
sometimes i wonder, who has got it good? whose lifestyle should be striving for? more work, more money? why do we need so much money anyway? to put our kids through a good university, yes i forgot. but do we need so much more than that? we work so hard so that we have more money, so that we can then live an easy life. which he is already doing. sometimes you get so caught up that you just can't stop, you can't unwind. knowing how to be contented is a difficult art. just when you think you know, then you stop and think, is your life really better than his?
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before you proceed, let me warn visitors that they may find today's posting a little crass, if not weird. hello everybody. are you all w...
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i'm back. yes, that is pretty obvious, otherwise you wouldn't be reading this. i brought back souveniers, dear readers, to compensat...
