Friday, September 25, 2009

The Brutal Nature of my Job


I'm getting ready in the morning, suitably attired for an 8-hour shift in the office and dressy enough to meet Li Wern for dinner and giggles in the evening.


Putting on a flowery skirt and curling my eye lashes, I step back in satisfaction as I survey my appearance in the mirror.


It's 9.15am, which means I'm running late as usual and would have to resort to cabbing it to work.


No biggie, especially since my tight skirt means climbing the overhead bridge would be a minor inconvenience.


Suddenly, my phone "beeps" and my heart skips a beat.


No one texts me this early.


No one, that is, except my early-riser of a boss.


True to form, it's a message from my boss. Change of plans today. He needs me to check out a hotline call, a suicide.


Glancing back at the mirror, my bright pink skirt stands out inappropriately for such an assignment.


Sighing, I change into sensible black pants, mentally putting aside my brown chocolate heels in exchange for sensible black walking shoes.


Half an hour later, I find myself at the scene of the suicide. A police tent is erected at the foot of the HDB flat, presumably covering a dead body.


Turns out the hotline caller didn't sending us on a wild goose chase, which has happened before.


A large group of people have congregated, surrounding an elderly woman who's screaming and crying, shouting incoherent phases in the direction of the body.


I stay back, surveying the scene, trying to decide how best to approach the family.


A family member breaks away from the pack and I stalk her as she climbs three flights of stairs to her house.


I call out, startling the woman. My sensible black shoes make no sound.


Obviously distressed, I gently ask for her identity, and she says she's the deceased's daughter-in-law.


Swallowing my own revulsion, I then ask about the deceased, trying to piece together the identity of the man, and the reasons for his sudden death.


The woman stutters and breaks up, offering pieces of information, but eventually directs me to her husband, the man's eldest son.


I approach the son cautiously, who's with his brother and sister-in-law.


I have to switch to my weaker language, Mandarin, and attempt to coax more info from the grieving family, staring straight into 3 pairs of red eyes swollen from crying.


Their father was old and sick, I learn. He moved away to a nearby estate many years ago but came back to his old home to end his life. Stricken with multiple illnesses, unable to eat solid food, living on milk and pain, the man somehow managed to walk many streets to his old home.


Snapping out of their dazed confession, one son extols and pleads with me not to report the story, as it's a personal family matter. Besides, death probably brought their father a sense of release from all the pain and suffering, says another son.


Knowing that I can make no such promise, all I can do is say over and over again, "I'm sorry".


And in my heart, I know that if I was in the same situation, I would have screamed at any insensitive reporter.


I head back to the office with a heavy heart.


Story written, broadcasted, published for all.


And I'm left contemplating over the brutal nature of my job, which makes my life and emotions unpredictable.


A perfectly sunny day may start out brightly, but can change in a snap.


I'm just doing my job, so why do I feel like such a beast?

Thursday, September 24, 2009

Glee Video of the Week!


Oh.My.God.


Can the show get any more fabulous?


When it manages to get a tough, muscular, football team to do Beyonce's "Single Ladies" dance, it has me swearing allegiance, if you can't tell already.




And just a little office toilet humour.


See me and this other colleague whom I don't recognise end up in the two-cubicle loo at the same time.


We close the door, pants comes down, pee starts.


After I'm done, and I SWEAR, the other cubicle's occupant was still merrily peeing away. Twice as long as I took, in a steady steam. Towards the end, she even did a couple of crescendos with a series of "pssst" "pssst" "pssst.


That woman was holding in enough liquid to water a football field.


And of course, I had the uncontrollably urge to laugh.


At least I had the decency to rush out of the toilet before bursting into fits.

Monday, September 21, 2009

Must Counter the Bad with the Good

Big change at the office. Since the company is not ready to tell the world yet, I suppose it would do me no good to blab it on the World Wide Web, even if only a handful of people read this.

But suffice to say, it APPEARS to be more work, but not more pay. I shall wait and see what happens once things really take off.

As our dear Labour Chief says, we must improve productivity! Produce, produce, produce, cattle! Watch our for that whip!

My whole office is definitely not happy with the changes but alas, being mere mortals and minions, things are always beyond us. Paid slaves, that's what we are.

Anyway, to counter to misery, I went out and.......

BOUGHT A Wii!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

With Full Band Kit!!!

Fadz and I shared the cost.

10 minutes before we bought the thing, we were discussing who would get what should we break up.

Haha, yes, we are very practical/morbid/ge gao folks. And since I paid more, of course I get the console. He gets to keep the Guitar Hero Full Band Kit. Hmmm... maybe it would be enough incentive to get back together should we break up just so we can make beautiful music. HAHA!

But the thing is a health hazard to unfit people. We played for hours on end over the weekend, and since Fadz was still fasting, we didn't even stop for water!

So all that drumming, tennis and boxing really took a toll on me. At one point, I couldn't even lift my hands higher than my shoulders! Then my sides started to ache so badly that I couldn't even find a good position to sleep.

Sigh...

But, still super psyched!

Except I'm now in the office, on a public holiday, working. Bleagh. Can't wait to go back to my Wii man.

Friday, September 18, 2009

So Anyway...


I was complaining to Fadz that out of the blue, my Dad started lecturing me and advising that I should go queue up for a flat, cos it takes like bloody 3 years to get a bloody PUNGGOL flat these days.


This coupled with some not-so-subtle jabs from friends and colleagues that I should be fasting for Hari Raya cos I'm "half-Muslim what"....


So there I was whining, like hello, somebody hasn't even proposed to me yet, what talk of getting a flat.


So Fadz being Fadz, said, "I have to concentrate on getting a ring and whatnot, where got money to buy a flat? Why don't you stop spending so much on shopping and save up for the flat instead?"


Like totally -_-'''


So in a fit of annoyance, I was like "does this mean if I get you a ring, you'd pay for a flat?"


Fadz: "sure. I'd use the ring you buy to propose to you and then I'll give you a flat".


Idiot. Told you he wasn't romantic. And mean. And surly.


Dunno why I bother talking to him. Better off watching Glee. Humpf.


New episode!!!


Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Beware the shoe pervert

Urgh, there's a serious sicko/pervert/weirdo running around in my block. Not sure if he/she is afflicting my neighbours, but I'm this close to setting traps for the bastard/bastardette.

I live on the top floor of my HDB block and there are only 2 families on that floor.

Unsurprisingly, we tend to extend our use beyond the gate and colonise the corridor with random stuff like shoes, bicycles and whatnot.

With 3 women in the house, my family puts most of our (considerable number of) shoes outside in the corridor, in a bid to save space and not overrun the house with heels, slippers and shoes.

For the past couple of weeks, there's been a truly SICK pervert who's been stealing our shoes.

The strangest thing is, this asshole is taking only one side of each pair of shoe.

That's right, you read correctly. ONE SIDE.

For god's sake, if you want the shoe so badly, at least take both sides!!! What the hell are you doing taking only the right side of each pair of shoes???? Do you have like 3 right feet?

So far, three pairs of high heels have befallen this freak of nature.

And they are not even new, clean shoes. These are well-trodden, slightly smelly (hey, you try wearing shoes every day and see if there's no foot smell) shoes that have been through quite a bit.

So either this person enjoys my foot odour (eww), is somebody with a sick sense of humour, or an alien with 3 right feet.

I'm so bloody annoyed. Yes, it gives me an opportunity to go shopping for new shoes, but sooner or later, everything ends up outside due to space constraints in the house.

Yes, we do own that many pairs of shoes.

So I curse that said thief to damnation and beyond. If it's a guy, may his hands rot and penis fall off. If woman, curse you with eternal bad fashion sense, bad breath and droopy boobs!

Maybe I should think about setting mouse traps, alarm systems and CCTV.

HUmpf.

Friday, September 11, 2009

So Gleeful!


I just love American TV! Is it the bigger budget, larger pool of talent, or better creative writing that make US productions a bazillion times better than anything Singapore could churn out?


Anyway, stumbled upon this new show called Glee. Incorporates music, song and dance into good ol' fashion teenage drama angst.


I know, I know, I should be so past the teenage thing. And honestly, many themes such as celibacy and social alienation are concepts that no longer sit with me.


BUT.. and it's a big heart, taken with an open mind and drawing on my teenage reserves, the show is still highly entertaining.


If you're a fan of Moulin Rouge and Coyote Ugly, you'd be a fan of Glee.



Sunday, September 06, 2009

Depression


It's utterly depressing that after 5 days of heavy medication, my illness is still not getting better.


I'm in a constant state of panic and taking my temperature so frequently it feels like the thermometer is permanently in my mouth.


And yet, every time things seems a little normal and I go off the fever meds, my temperature goes up again.


Do you know how horrible fever medication is? I've lost my appetite, it makes me want to gag, my mouth is always dry.


And my cough hasn't gotten better either. I've been coughing so often, deep, racking coughs that leaves me breathless and gasping for air.


And it sounds like I have a lot of phlegm, but it seems like it's all stuck in my chest. So I try to loosen it from my lungs by doing some mad coughing, but I just end up hurting my throat.


Now it feels like a rake is scratching across my throat, even my ears hurt. It hurts to speak, it hurts to breathe.


I don't want to eat, I don't want to move, I'm stuck in my room 24/7, the meds make me so sleepy. But I'm going insane from not leaving the house since Wednesday.


If things don't turn around tomorrow, my GP is recommending that I go to a hospital.


Man, is this turning out to be a fun September.

Thursday, September 03, 2009

The Swine Flu That Wasn't....


Here's the deal - I'm running a 38.6 degree Celcius fever, I've been alternating between massive flu and whooping cough, I'm fatigued and my muscles ache.


Unable to take the torment any longer, I finally succumb to visiting the doctor last night.


Even when presented with my symptoms, he calmly proclaimed that Swine Flu season was over and what I had was something else.


Except he never said what that something else was.


And he kept asking me if I was stressed, to the point where I was so stressed by the line of questioning that I had to yell "NO!"


Does anyone else smell a quack?


Well, at least he loaded me up with drugs and gave me 2 days MC.