September weighed rather consciously on my mind. I couldn't be awakened from a September vacation, for it didn't happen at all. Instead, a flurry of activities and late nights in office stole the sweet breath of September away. Until a week ago, it was as if September was one long breath drawn, with respite far away in sight. I can breathe a little easier now, but things are hardly any better. Or maybe it's just me being pessimistic. I read a novel and it was described that there were two kinds of (mediocre) people: the mediocre realists, and the mediocre dreamers. There was an immediate affinity to the latter that seems to be my conscious soul saying, hey, that's you. As if to prove that judgment and instinctive feeling right, I started to wonder if labels and terms like these bear any truth, or might they ring some degree of truth if only because people's minds attach meaning to them to reinforce what they already believed?
Perhaps it is because my birthday falls in September that makes me fond of the month, the ninth in the year. But I like September because it sounds nicer than other months; it has a soothing, autumn-like feel that is reassuring (hint of mediocre dreamer?). Almost at the stroke of midnight which ushered in my birthday, a group of people sang me a birthday song, some of them I've only known and spoken with in the last 24 hours. The next day, I crashed out and lay in bed till afternoon, recuperating from a physically exhausting day before. The exhausting day was a memorable one though, and I have no complains of being completely tired out. After all, how often does one's good friend tie the knots on the day before one's birthday?
In the 3 weeks that he was back preparing for his wedding, we probably met up and hung out together more than we ever did in the past 3 years combined. We hit the bars to drink, and he would invariably regale me with stories on the Brits' love for drinking, whereupon I would remind him that this is Singapore, hello. He's one of those good friends who, despite not meeting up frequently, I feel very at ease when hanging out together. We could talk about many things and there won't be awkward silences. It helps that - as is the case with other good friends - we have a healthy appetite for the absurd, funny, crappy, but can still hold a serious conversation if we want to. We had a lot of fun during the 3 weeks leading to his wedding day, so much so that I admit feeling a tinge of sadness when he returned to London, this time with his wife.
Another good friend's birthday falls in September too, and we met up for dinner a week ago. I meant it to be a birthday treat but he beat me to it by calling for the bill when I went to the washroom. Said i paid too many times and he's learnt to be smart finally. I felt cheated. Over dinner I told him about JG's wedding, M's unresponsiveness and the smashing gathering he'd missed (lucky guy was backpacking in Central Asia). We laughed and joked, as is always the case. Then, almost casually, he dropped that he's now attached ('By the way...'). When I probed further, I realised that he didn't have to do anything - except to ask - to win the approval of his girlfriend (what was the girl thinking?!). Suddenly the world seemed a little lonelier, what with everyone getting attached or married.
The following day - coincidentally, the last day of September - I went for a run with Eugene to train for marathon. It was the first time we were running alongside each other instead of cycling. It was also the first time that I ran some 12km at East Coast Park whilst talking nearly the entire run. I didn't go breathless, but it sure felt like an added component to the usual training. Holding a converstation while running turned out to be not a bad thing at all, for I got through the boring parts of ECP pretty quickly without the boredom catching on. Moreover, it was a good opportunity to know a friend better, and Eugene and I had had some good conversations. Later, we guiltlessly indulged in sinfully good prawn noodles and fried kway teow for dinner, even though both of us weren't the least bit bothered by the level of (un)healthiness - with or without the run. I remember the night ended with heavy rain (thus ended our it-won't-rain-let's-not-say-too-early talk), and though i had to use my umbrella to get home from the train station, I was quite a happy man because of the cool weather. Listening to my MP3 with two bags slung across my shoulder, I stepped into the rain feeling a sense of fuzzy warmth, having had a good evening and knowing that a good sleep now awaited me.
Maybe September didn't start well enough. But it does seem like I wasn't treated shabbily in its closing. For that I am thankful.
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