Thursday, October 21, 2004

from dusk to dawn

I was rudely awakened by my father a while ago when he yelled at me, just to pass me a letter. Gee, how important could it be? Waking up suddenly like that always send my heart beating extremely fast, and from the depth of the grogginess I struggled to climb out to reclaim my addled senses.

I then tried to get back to my state of bliss, only to be troubled by the shrill sound of my handphone screaming for my attention. I fell off the mattress on my tangled feet again, rushing to get the phone from my bag, fortunately it wasn't a wrong number, only an unimportant one.

My handphone is getting extremely ancient. People would change their handphones every what .. one-two years? My old ancient has been with me for almost five years next year. And it has certainly out-lived its due date. After 30 seconds of talking, my handphone protested loudy and gave out shrill clicking sounds and died. I resurrected it by giving it its life support it so needed, switched it back on and managed another 30 seconds before it faltered again. It actually had two bars when it decided to go. Damn, and to think that I'm charging its life every night. It's certainly time to get a new one soon! Oh when is my service provider going to give me some discount vouchers for getting a new one?

By now, it is impossible to go back to sleep as my scattered wits has decided to congeal together and everything else is conspiring against me and my beauty sleep.

So the next best thing is to do a quick blog and open my delicious mouth watering chocolates I bought the other day, when I was feeling extremely hungry after yoga. It is certainly not wise at all to send a hungry me shopping for groceries when the stomach is doing the thinking. Then again, Lindt Swiss Thins orange flavoured are mouth-watering. It literally melts in your mouth and you have to close your mouth before you drool over. slurp. :)

Whoops, I popped another in again.

Seeing the rate at which I'm drugged on chocolates and all things unhealty, and at the amount of weight I'm gaining unconsicously, doing yoga twice a week doesn't seem sufficient. Wen does it three times a week. I could have gone down this evening but it's quite tiring to move my bum all the way to town. And besides it's rather expensive to go three times weekly. I should do it at home, but the bed gets in the way. Maybe I should go jogging instead.

I've always loved jogging. Especially early in the morning when the dew sparkles in the flora and the sky still trying to shake off the shadow of mystery clinging on it. The air smells of clean cool breeze and as I run, the slight golden warmth starts to gather and heats up my body gently. I don't sweat a lot and it's simply lovely to feel the cool breeze on my skin and in my hair. I can run a long time, looking at the beautiful hazy world in the young sunlight and concentrating on my breath whispering through my lungs. I could have run forever for yoga has helped me maintain my tempo and nothing is stopping me from being all powerful disturbing the undercurrents of the molecules of unseeingness. If not for the fact that my thighs start to itch with redness after a while which is beyond my understanding at all. Perhaps it is the opening of the blood vessels down these unused limbs and the surging of new life into every part of myself. Perhaps I must conquer it and get used to it. I must jog again.

And no way am I going to jog on a threadmill. Excuse me, but I do not intend to live my life as a hamster, running haplessly in situ all in the name of exercise. Running on a threadmill is the most pathetic way to view life in. Jogging is to free the mind and let the spirit soar with flight and not to be chained to an ungainly machine trying to see if you can keep up at 11km/h whatsoever. I hate jogging on threadmills. It's so pointless.

So saying, this evening's weather doesn't look too bad to pick up jogging again, though I still prefer mornings when the sun is just peeking out. I shall jog on Saturdays and Sundays too. If only I can persuade my significant other to join me as well. The knees would creak in protest if I do so, eh? ;)

I was very surprised to find that a half mark was deducted for an insigificant statement, or lack of, in the workings. It was repeated a few times over to a grand total of three marks deducted all together. I say, extremely ridiculous. Indeed we should not give them the marks if it is an incorrect step but this, in my opinion, was going a little far. It wasn't even incorrect, just a matter of copying down certain numbers from the calculator before rounding them off. If the same mistake was made, what should have been done was to deduct say, one mark at the end of it all, instead of penalising them over and over again. It's like hitting your head on the wall again and again for no reason.

I completely sympathise with my kids and promised to be an avatar and bring it up to the relevant person. It's important to be detailed, but to nit-pick in this way irritated me as well. My head (no, not my head!) agreed with me, but the person sounded quite annoyed with it and did not really want to change her ways for at least a third of the whole level had marks deducted this way. It would mean a lot of work. Gasp. I spoke to another more experienced person who also viewed this as I, and we decided to take matters in our own hands, with the blessing of the head.

The nation's online papers have decided to get itself password protected. I cannot, for my life, imagined why they would want to do that, unless they are going to start charging its subscribers a fee for reading in the near future. I was very much annoyed during the registration process when I saw that they wanted so much private information from me. Where is privacy? Why do they need to know my household income? Why do they want this and that from me? It felt that I have to surrender a pound of my flesh in order to read something, which in the first place, is only propaganda most of the time. Oh give me a break. I only read it to keep myself amused. There are other better places to get news from. Dear hubby told me a way to get around it. I shall use that yet.


A recent email from Lin who is still in Kazakhstan. She has apparently made it to the next stage of the World Bank's Young Professionals Program selection process. Judging from the tone of her letter, this is a most prestigous thing and she's very very happy. I am pleased for her, but I can't help feeling rather detached from it all. She is slowly acheiving the ambitions she always has in her and is living life to the fullest. Sometimes I wonder what I am doing and where is the direction I wish to take. I am happy in my own quiet way, to love and to be loved. My whole life revolves around a small little walnut, warm and sheltered from the turbulous wings of changes. Do I really want to be so ambitious? Sometimes my restless spirit wishes that things could be different, other times I'm so happy to have what I have. It can be quite contradictory. Perhaps in the other worlds, there are other mes doing the stuffs which my imagination could not possible conceive of.

But right now, right here, I have no regrets for being me, with my loving darling and my happy life.


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