It was still raining when i woke up this morning, barely 5 hours after I turned in to bed.
I looked at the alarm clock: 8:30am, it reads. In half an hour's time i am supposed to be in office. But usually I would have already been more than half-way through the journey to work by now.
Damn.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
pouring rain
I choose to see that I was lucky.
It was past midnight, and I was on my way home from work on the train, just two stops away from alighting.
Then I noticed, quite unexpectedly and suddenly, that it was pouring outside. And I do mean it was really pouring: the rain was beating harshly on the window panes, and you could tell from its direction that the wind was powerful.
I was indifferent though. I continued reading my magazine.
Methinks I was lucky because this was one of those rare days when i actually carried an umbrella in my bag. And it so happened that, though i was in jeans and shoes, I had a pair of sandals and shorts in my bag (I was supposed to go for dragon-boat training - the final and only chance I had - though in the end work cropped up and I didn't make it).
Seeing as it is how heavy the rain was, I changed into my shorts, kept my shoes and wore my sandals. Thank goodness I didn't have to bear with wet socks (my shoes are almost permeable) and water splashing on my jeans!
Listening to music from my MP3 player, I began to walk out of the station, holding my umbrella and clutching my bag close to my chest. There were few cars on the road; the street was almost desolate. I walked on, careful to avoid the puddles of water that collected on the ground. For once I didn't mind the rain. Or maybe I was too brain-dead to mind anything.
It was past midnight, and I was on my way home from work on the train, just two stops away from alighting.
Then I noticed, quite unexpectedly and suddenly, that it was pouring outside. And I do mean it was really pouring: the rain was beating harshly on the window panes, and you could tell from its direction that the wind was powerful.
I was indifferent though. I continued reading my magazine.
Methinks I was lucky because this was one of those rare days when i actually carried an umbrella in my bag. And it so happened that, though i was in jeans and shoes, I had a pair of sandals and shorts in my bag (I was supposed to go for dragon-boat training - the final and only chance I had - though in the end work cropped up and I didn't make it).
Seeing as it is how heavy the rain was, I changed into my shorts, kept my shoes and wore my sandals. Thank goodness I didn't have to bear with wet socks (my shoes are almost permeable) and water splashing on my jeans!
Listening to music from my MP3 player, I began to walk out of the station, holding my umbrella and clutching my bag close to my chest. There were few cars on the road; the street was almost desolate. I walked on, careful to avoid the puddles of water that collected on the ground. For once I didn't mind the rain. Or maybe I was too brain-dead to mind anything.
Sunday, October 28, 2007
the weekend aftermath
The dour sky in the morning eventually emptied and gave way to a perfectly blue expanse, as if it was a coat of uniform paint. If the morning didn’t turn out the way I wanted to, the warm afternoon made up for it.
No, I didn’t run. I was chilling at the beach, basking under the sun that shone its brilliant rays upon the denizens. Sipping lemonade and lying next to two bikini-clad babes, I was having a taste of a beach bum’s life. It all seemed too good to be true.
The bar was playing chill-out music that was neither too loud nor intrusive, adding to the pleasantly languorous mood. Looking at the sky through the tinted lenses of my shades, I found a magnificent piece of blue staring back at me. It was a soothing sight.
And then there were different kinds of dogs frolicking on the beach, or being lovingly walked by their owners. The strappingly tall Caucasian who settled next to us was playing with his dog, randomly throwing a green frisbee and a ball into the distance. But its well-trained dog seemed only to like the frisbee; it would run and pick it up, but not the ball. I happened to observe the frisbee in close proximity and noticed that it was quite tattered, almost to the point of breaking into two. Must be the dog’s favourite toy, I reckoned.
Two beautiful kids - a girl and a boy - were having fun with each other. The boy looks about 3 years old while his sister (I assume) looks about 5. Clad in green trunks and bikini respectively, they look like they would grow up to be the ideal beach dude and babe, or so I imagined. (Jess commented that beautiful kids often grow up to be, er, ugly and vice versa. Which prompted D to quip Which would you describe yourself when you were a kid then?) Once, they lay on the beach and started burying their bodies with sand, giggling, completely absorbed in their merry task. It was enjoyable watching the two kids having fun, and they carried such energy with them that inevitably drew much adult attention.
Our only gripe was that the sea water was dirty. There was a prickling sensation on our skin when we swam in it. So we abandoned it, preferring to lounge on the reclining woonden benches and while away the time under the sun. There really isn’t much about the tranquillity and sun-soaked joy that needs describing more. You have the sun, sand and sea, relaxing music and good company, period.
Postscript: Hell, I spent the entire Sunday afternoon and evening working and fine-tuning a long overdue paper that is probably going to get shot back (again). Bliss is short-lived!
No, I didn’t run. I was chilling at the beach, basking under the sun that shone its brilliant rays upon the denizens. Sipping lemonade and lying next to two bikini-clad babes, I was having a taste of a beach bum’s life. It all seemed too good to be true.
The bar was playing chill-out music that was neither too loud nor intrusive, adding to the pleasantly languorous mood. Looking at the sky through the tinted lenses of my shades, I found a magnificent piece of blue staring back at me. It was a soothing sight.
And then there were different kinds of dogs frolicking on the beach, or being lovingly walked by their owners. The strappingly tall Caucasian who settled next to us was playing with his dog, randomly throwing a green frisbee and a ball into the distance. But its well-trained dog seemed only to like the frisbee; it would run and pick it up, but not the ball. I happened to observe the frisbee in close proximity and noticed that it was quite tattered, almost to the point of breaking into two. Must be the dog’s favourite toy, I reckoned.
Two beautiful kids - a girl and a boy - were having fun with each other. The boy looks about 3 years old while his sister (I assume) looks about 5. Clad in green trunks and bikini respectively, they look like they would grow up to be the ideal beach dude and babe, or so I imagined. (Jess commented that beautiful kids often grow up to be, er, ugly and vice versa. Which prompted D to quip Which would you describe yourself when you were a kid then?) Once, they lay on the beach and started burying their bodies with sand, giggling, completely absorbed in their merry task. It was enjoyable watching the two kids having fun, and they carried such energy with them that inevitably drew much adult attention.
Our only gripe was that the sea water was dirty. There was a prickling sensation on our skin when we swam in it. So we abandoned it, preferring to lounge on the reclining woonden benches and while away the time under the sun. There really isn’t much about the tranquillity and sun-soaked joy that needs describing more. You have the sun, sand and sea, relaxing music and good company, period.
Postscript: Hell, I spent the entire Sunday afternoon and evening working and fine-tuning a long overdue paper that is probably going to get shot back (again). Bliss is short-lived!
Saturday, October 27, 2007
As luck would have it
The same situation last week repeated exactly this morning.
The sky was dark and the morning sun nowhere to be seen. Walking towards the train station, I wolfed down my bread and banana while my eyes scanned the cheerless sky. On one end the sky was already overcome by what looked like clouds of the stormy kind; the other side was slightly better but not much.
I was neither disappointed nor hopeful; more like resigned. Still I hastened my steps as I did not want to be late.
U
As the East-bound train slid along past the familiar landscape I’m so used to seeing, it became obvious that a storm was imminent. But I was calm (or indifferent?).
After a few sms and calls, Jon and I decided to call off the run. EY wasn’t particularly convinced though; he said the sky from where he could see looked bright. Maybe it’s the optimist in him, or maybe he’s determined to run this morning, but I’ve to say he’s got poor judgement. As far as my eyes could see, it’s going to pour buckets anytime soon; there’s no sun to speak of.
Nevertheless, I made the trip down to Kallang MRT since I was already halfway through the journey. The moment I stepped out of the station and looked into the sky, I could hear the first rumblings of thunder.
I think EY heard that too. A short moment later, I received a sms from him.
‘Goddamn sky. I am heading home.’
He needs that battle cry to be fully convinced, it seemed.
For the second time in two weekends, I made a fruitless trip to Kallang, then headed to office, had Yakun for breakfast while the pattering rain fell outside. And I woke up at 6:20am for all of this.
That’s a bit too much for my weary body from a week of work.
The sky was dark and the morning sun nowhere to be seen. Walking towards the train station, I wolfed down my bread and banana while my eyes scanned the cheerless sky. On one end the sky was already overcome by what looked like clouds of the stormy kind; the other side was slightly better but not much.
I was neither disappointed nor hopeful; more like resigned. Still I hastened my steps as I did not want to be late.
U
As the East-bound train slid along past the familiar landscape I’m so used to seeing, it became obvious that a storm was imminent. But I was calm (or indifferent?).
After a few sms and calls, Jon and I decided to call off the run. EY wasn’t particularly convinced though; he said the sky from where he could see looked bright. Maybe it’s the optimist in him, or maybe he’s determined to run this morning, but I’ve to say he’s got poor judgement. As far as my eyes could see, it’s going to pour buckets anytime soon; there’s no sun to speak of.
Nevertheless, I made the trip down to Kallang MRT since I was already halfway through the journey. The moment I stepped out of the station and looked into the sky, I could hear the first rumblings of thunder.
I think EY heard that too. A short moment later, I received a sms from him.
‘Goddamn sky. I am heading home.’
He needs that battle cry to be fully convinced, it seemed.
For the second time in two weekends, I made a fruitless trip to Kallang, then headed to office, had Yakun for breakfast while the pattering rain fell outside. And I woke up at 6:20am for all of this.
That’s a bit too much for my weary body from a week of work.
Monday, October 22, 2007
the thing about Yakun's coffee
There's a Yakun outlet just beneath my office, and it's spoiling me all right. Despite having no lack of kopitiams in the area, I have been satisfying my daily caffine needs through Yakun. At $1.20 per cup - and the cup is samller than those served at most kopitiams - it is pricier than what one would get elsewhere.
But Yakun serves consistently good coffee; fragant and crisp. And i readily admit that I am fussy about my coffee and tea. I am entitled to be fussy, for i need them to survive the day and long night in office. So I don't like to buy from kopitiams and food courts because their coffee and tea are served in foam cups. Believe me, the taste and fragance is just different from that served in paper cups, which Yakun uses; I've tried and i think foam cups have a degrading effect on the flavour of its contents. Other than that, I don't have to remove the cover when i drink from Yakun paper cups, so my coffee actually stays warmer for a longer time.
Economists talk about opportunity cost and how the price of a product is determined. I am no economist, but i dare say the lack of a similar alternative (rather than branding) is what gives Yakun its competitive edge. At a few cents more per cup than what is sold elsewhere, a cup of Yakun coffee/tea is still very affordable by most standards. Add to that the reasons i mentioned earlier, and it probably explains why they are still drawing the crowds despite the availability of so many competitors, all of which are located nearby.
As I told my friend, if i compare a Yakun coffee with one from Starbucks, I definitely am making a lot of savings.
So yes, unless my work becomes any easier, I will need coffee to sustain myself, and I will continue patronising Yakun. It doesn't hurt that they have nice-looking cups either.
But Yakun serves consistently good coffee; fragant and crisp. And i readily admit that I am fussy about my coffee and tea. I am entitled to be fussy, for i need them to survive the day and long night in office. So I don't like to buy from kopitiams and food courts because their coffee and tea are served in foam cups. Believe me, the taste and fragance is just different from that served in paper cups, which Yakun uses; I've tried and i think foam cups have a degrading effect on the flavour of its contents. Other than that, I don't have to remove the cover when i drink from Yakun paper cups, so my coffee actually stays warmer for a longer time.
Economists talk about opportunity cost and how the price of a product is determined. I am no economist, but i dare say the lack of a similar alternative (rather than branding) is what gives Yakun its competitive edge. At a few cents more per cup than what is sold elsewhere, a cup of Yakun coffee/tea is still very affordable by most standards. Add to that the reasons i mentioned earlier, and it probably explains why they are still drawing the crowds despite the availability of so many competitors, all of which are located nearby.
As I told my friend, if i compare a Yakun coffee with one from Starbucks, I definitely am making a lot of savings.
So yes, unless my work becomes any easier, I will need coffee to sustain myself, and I will continue patronising Yakun. It doesn't hurt that they have nice-looking cups either.
A fine evening
The place was Grill-Out at Sunset Way; the atmosphere was laid-back and casual. Most of the restaurants seemed quite fully packed, but the scene was neither messy nor overcrowded. It was a fresh change for a dining venue.
Despite having decided on our food, we still asked the staff for recommendations. It seemed only a natural thing to do after all: asking about chef's recommendations, seeking explanation on dishes with obscure names - as if these are part of a customary procedure expected of serious diners. And, ahem, we are serious about our food all right.
A man of stocky built walked us through the day's specials. Judging from his demeanour and speech - he had an authoritative voice, spoke crisp English, demonstrated good knowledge of the menu - he could very well be the owner of the restaurant. But we didn't probe further beyond what he listed (which could be read from the display board, to be frank).
I felt sorry for wasting his time to tell us about the day's specials only to have us placed our orders immediately without any appreciative comments. And while he was speaking, I saw JW's face and nearly broke into a guffaw: he had that unmistakable oh-i-see-hmm look. As if he was deep in thought pondering hard about the recommendations.
Despite having decided on our food, we still asked the staff for recommendations. It seemed only a natural thing to do after all: asking about chef's recommendations, seeking explanation on dishes with obscure names - as if these are part of a customary procedure expected of serious diners. And, ahem, we are serious about our food all right.
A man of stocky built walked us through the day's specials. Judging from his demeanour and speech - he had an authoritative voice, spoke crisp English, demonstrated good knowledge of the menu - he could very well be the owner of the restaurant. But we didn't probe further beyond what he listed (which could be read from the display board, to be frank).
I felt sorry for wasting his time to tell us about the day's specials only to have us placed our orders immediately without any appreciative comments. And while he was speaking, I saw JW's face and nearly broke into a guffaw: he had that unmistakable oh-i-see-hmm look. As if he was deep in thought pondering hard about the recommendations.
Before heading for ice-cream nearby after dinner - well, we ended up at good 'ol walas though - JW fished out from beneath the table a birthday cake for Tam. But instead of just celebrating Tam's birthday, three candles were lit, one for Caleb and Tam each, and the short one for JW. It was quite funny. We sang a birthday song - nice and warm - and the three birthday folks each blew out their candle. Oh, and the cake was yummy!
Over at Walas later, plans for a year-end party were thrown up and the date and venue promptly decided. Now all that's left is for JW to utilize every resource he has to invite the others. Even if that fails, well, there's still the small group of us. And that's cool.
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
A strange dream
I had a strange dream yesterday.
I was in a car with Fr and SP. Fr was driving, but I can’t remember if I was next to him or at the back. He was heading towards a reservoir/river and was supposed to brake in time, just at the edge. We were laughing in the car, like we always do in real life anyway, seemingly oblivious of any dangers.
Recalling the dream, it’s as if I’m describing a scene right out of a movie. It's like I'm watching one of those scenes where the camera inevitably settles on the jovial faces of the people, while the laughter and voices are made deliberately fuzzy to create a dispersed effect, so that an imminent sense of foreboding builds up.
But back to the dream.
You should have guessed by now that Fr didn’t stop the car in time. The car just dived into the water and because it happened so quickly, there wasn’t time to register any shock. So yes, I actually dreamt that I was inside a sinking car.
It’s nothing morbid though, for none of us drowned or died. Or at least I don’t recall anyone of us dying.
And here's the uncanny thing about such weird dreams: You remember them so vividly after you awake – right down to minute details like one’s expression – so vividly that they seemed almost real sometimes. And then you amaze at how you could ever dream of them in the first place. So many times, so many such unbelievable dreams. But dreamed we did.
The moment I – in the dream – realized that the car was sinking into the water, I instinctively reached for the door and opened it effortlessly. I didn't have any problem escaping; it was as if the scene was destined to play out the way it did, that I would be inside a submerging car but would have the means to extricate myself. Only half the car had gone into the water then. Which means, no, we haven’t reached the river bed.
And the weird dream then took a weird twist at this point of time. I distinctly recall that it wasn’t long before I realized the car wasn’t sinking; it had actually bumped up against a surface. Apparently there was some sort of a land just ahead of where it fell into the river. So it ended up that the car wasn't going to sink after all.
To tell the truth, I can’t remember where and what Fr and SP were doing all this while. (As with so many dreams, there are other people who appear only momentarily. They are like the supporting cast; try as you might, you can only recall that they appeared. Beyond that, they don't seem to make any noticeable progress.)
I only knew that I – the one living out the dream – was (capable of being) amazed and felt the incident farcical. I don’t know, but it could be that my conscious self was registering these emotions. All the same, it could be my subconsciousness being transported into somewhere, something akin to living a dream within a dream, that sort of thing. (Shit, i think i am not making any human sense.)
But I do remember with great clarity this weird dream. Perhaps having taken Fr’s car that same day had somehow induced the dream. Or perhaps it’s just a symptom of my overwrought mind. At least I didn’t dream of myself being trapped in a car, drowning and whimpering for the last catches of breath.
That would not just be a weird dream. It would be unimaginably and distastefully weird.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Border-ed no more
I finally succumbed.
Tempted to get hold of the book Escape from Amsterdam, I decided to sign up for Borders' Preferred Card. I'd toyed with the idea for a long time but each time I came close to signing up, I would somehow manage to hold back. Not this time.
Yes, I had to pay for the card which cost me more than the amount I would save for the purchase. But the savings (an amount substantial enough to tempt me) coupled with my eagerness to get the book led me to that irrevocable decision. Besides, these two certainly won't be the last books I am getting from Borders. I must say those people running a book business knows more than a thing or two about working their way into a book lover's heart - and his wallet.
So that's it, I'm ditching Kinokuniya for Borders, even though Kino definitely has a greater selection of titles. Borders' offer of 30% discount simply proves irresitable. Maybe i should never have gone on board their mailing list after all.
Escape from Amsterdam: I'd read about the book in the Sunday Times. It was named the best book or something by the journalist. The plot and the author's writing style seemed something that I would enjoy. So I went down to the bookstore to browse the book (no, i didn't buy it the first time), and decided I like what I read. Only one thing was lacking then: discount. Then I received an email from Borders, and the newspapers also advertised the promotion (which is only for this weekend). The rest, as they say, is history.
A Wild Sheep Chase: This was also mentioned in the book review. You know, advertisers and book reviewers theses days would, at the end of their review, footnote other books which you are likely to like if you enjoyed the one that was being reviewed. Yes, I readily admit that I happily lapped it up.
Truth be told, the recommendation merely gave me an impetus to buy another Murakami's book. For I am currently reading one of his books, and I know for sure this one won't be a disappointing read.
Although Murakami's books are so prominently displayed in the bookstores, I never picked up one until 1-0 introduced me to his works. Like what critics and others say, Murakami's fictional world is alluring. Taut and rhythmic, his novel reads like a piece of enchanting music. It's not an euphoric feeling one gets from reading his stories, but a sense of surreality that is oftentimes melancholy.
I am reading his collection of short stories now, and with the end of each story, it leaves you yearning for more. Perhaps this is why for the moment I'm taking my time with the book. I don't want to finish reading it so quickly.
Tempted to get hold of the book Escape from Amsterdam, I decided to sign up for Borders' Preferred Card. I'd toyed with the idea for a long time but each time I came close to signing up, I would somehow manage to hold back. Not this time.
Yes, I had to pay for the card which cost me more than the amount I would save for the purchase. But the savings (an amount substantial enough to tempt me) coupled with my eagerness to get the book led me to that irrevocable decision. Besides, these two certainly won't be the last books I am getting from Borders. I must say those people running a book business knows more than a thing or two about working their way into a book lover's heart - and his wallet.
So that's it, I'm ditching Kinokuniya for Borders, even though Kino definitely has a greater selection of titles. Borders' offer of 30% discount simply proves irresitable. Maybe i should never have gone on board their mailing list after all.
Escape from Amsterdam: I'd read about the book in the Sunday Times. It was named the best book or something by the journalist. The plot and the author's writing style seemed something that I would enjoy. So I went down to the bookstore to browse the book (no, i didn't buy it the first time), and decided I like what I read. Only one thing was lacking then: discount. Then I received an email from Borders, and the newspapers also advertised the promotion (which is only for this weekend). The rest, as they say, is history. A Wild Sheep Chase: This was also mentioned in the book review. You know, advertisers and book reviewers theses days would, at the end of their review, footnote other books which you are likely to like if you enjoyed the one that was being reviewed. Yes, I readily admit that I happily lapped it up.Truth be told, the recommendation merely gave me an impetus to buy another Murakami's book. For I am currently reading one of his books, and I know for sure this one won't be a disappointing read.
Although Murakami's books are so prominently displayed in the bookstores, I never picked up one until 1-0 introduced me to his works. Like what critics and others say, Murakami's fictional world is alluring. Taut and rhythmic, his novel reads like a piece of enchanting music. It's not an euphoric feeling one gets from reading his stories, but a sense of surreality that is oftentimes melancholy.
I am reading his collection of short stories now, and with the end of each story, it leaves you yearning for more. Perhaps this is why for the moment I'm taking my time with the book. I don't want to finish reading it so quickly.
Saturday, October 13, 2007
October
Prelude to year-end.
Plans for holidays heard, discussed. And parties - the girls are planning parties.
The office feels colder - and quieter. Leave days cleared, colleagues absent.
Got to book your diary for January 0-8 dates. Then you realise you have ain't no two thousand and eight calender - yet. Time to visit the bookstore, or get one from the insurance company. (yes, another diary's going to get ditched. its numerical successor is making its presence felt.)
Reports. Lots of them. Are KPIs met? Appraisal - the term pops up. It's taking precious time to do your appraisal, which is more a routine than an appraisal appraisal.
Christmas cards: surprisingly, I bought my first pack. Came earlier than i thought. But that's good; i won't have to scramble for them later. Time to update the christmas card-name list. It promises to get shorter this year.
Christmas jingles in malls: not yet. When they come, you'll know it.
October feels like a dislocated month. September has a nice ring to it. November heralds December, that lovely bitter-sweet month. But October?
Plans for holidays heard, discussed. And parties - the girls are planning parties.
The office feels colder - and quieter. Leave days cleared, colleagues absent.
Got to book your diary for January 0-8 dates. Then you realise you have ain't no two thousand and eight calender - yet. Time to visit the bookstore, or get one from the insurance company. (yes, another diary's going to get ditched. its numerical successor is making its presence felt.)
Reports. Lots of them. Are KPIs met? Appraisal - the term pops up. It's taking precious time to do your appraisal, which is more a routine than an appraisal appraisal.
Christmas cards: surprisingly, I bought my first pack. Came earlier than i thought. But that's good; i won't have to scramble for them later. Time to update the christmas card-name list. It promises to get shorter this year.
Christmas jingles in malls: not yet. When they come, you'll know it.
October feels like a dislocated month. September has a nice ring to it. November heralds December, that lovely bitter-sweet month. But October?
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
it happened
My fears were confirmed when I was alerted via sms that i was spotted on tv. My first thought was, damn, they really used that scene. My second thought then was, damn, why do people i know watch such a programme or happen to be watching! I think i have some explaining to do the next time i meet them, who (going by the sms i received) were happily laughing away when they saw me on tv.
God knows who else i know were watching that show. I just like to say: I was conned into being filmed.
Lesson learned: Never approach a stranger. Not even if he looks friendly. And certainly not if he beckons you over!
On another note, I was glad i ran after work today. Saturday's run was both good and bad: good in that it was probably the longest run i have done in ages and i felt good about it after that; bad in that the weather was hot and i was running (pun unintended) low on energy and water. I was that close to calling it quits in the last 3km.
Tonight was different though. I took some food an hour before the run; the night was cool; and I met other runners along the way. Of course the distance wasn't far, but i think i did get some work-out. And seeing others running always makes me feel a little more motivated. Hopefully the same feelings will transpire in the next run. Good. Good.
God knows who else i know were watching that show. I just like to say: I was conned into being filmed.
Lesson learned: Never approach a stranger. Not even if he looks friendly. And certainly not if he beckons you over!
On another note, I was glad i ran after work today. Saturday's run was both good and bad: good in that it was probably the longest run i have done in ages and i felt good about it after that; bad in that the weather was hot and i was running (pun unintended) low on energy and water. I was that close to calling it quits in the last 3km.
Tonight was different though. I took some food an hour before the run; the night was cool; and I met other runners along the way. Of course the distance wasn't far, but i think i did get some work-out. And seeing others running always makes me feel a little more motivated. Hopefully the same feelings will transpire in the next run. Good. Good.
Wednesday, October 03, 2007
Worn out
is what I am feeling right now.
It's already mid-week and i've not done any exercises (running or swimming). I could almost feel myself wearing thin from the past few weeks of hectic schedule: the occasional late nights out, the frequent work-out sessions that stretch to night coz they take place after work, and the packed-to-the-brim weekends; the result - insufficient rest. So now i feel not a little exhausted. And work - that chief of culprits - is leaving me dispirited, sucking the life out of me.
I crave sleep. Makes me not think of anything. But when morning comes and I awake (reluctantly), the routine repeats and i find myself trudging through the day's drudgery all over again.
Better days to come. I hope.
It's already mid-week and i've not done any exercises (running or swimming). I could almost feel myself wearing thin from the past few weeks of hectic schedule: the occasional late nights out, the frequent work-out sessions that stretch to night coz they take place after work, and the packed-to-the-brim weekends; the result - insufficient rest. So now i feel not a little exhausted. And work - that chief of culprits - is leaving me dispirited, sucking the life out of me.
I crave sleep. Makes me not think of anything. But when morning comes and I awake (reluctantly), the routine repeats and i find myself trudging through the day's drudgery all over again.
Better days to come. I hope.
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