CONJUNK-TIVI-TEES

So I have conjunctivitis.

....

No I haven't been peeping into guy toilets. Hahahahaha... you crack me up. You're so funny.... Keep your day job, you're no Chris Rock.

This doctor I went to, (not my regular doctor who will give me a very dirty look, shoo me out of her office, and call my parents to report my sissy behaviour, for coming to her with a little bitty weevil red eye) was a strange little man. Apparently he's quite the hotshot amongst the churchy people, ex-professor at NUS, pious little man, and its pretty close to my house, so I decided to pop over there.

Anyway, for CONJUNCTIVITIS, this infectious but generally un-dangerous disease mind you, he prescribed to me:

Painkillers
Doctor: Does your eye hurt?
Me: Not at all.
Doctor: Ok, I will give you painkillers.

Anti-itching thingies
Doctor: Does your eye itch?
Me: Not really. It's just slightly sensitive.
Doctor: Ok, I will give you this anti-itch. You can also use it when you have rashes.

Antibiotics
Doctor: I will also give you antibiotics. This is a 10 day course. Usually people take 7 days, but I'm going to give you 10 just in case.

Eye drops
Doctor: I'm going to give you some eye drops
Me: Yes, thanks I think that would help.

And it cost me 75 bucks.

MAaAAaaan.

BLUNT

You wish that when you leave, it would mean something. To the people you leave behind. The place you leave.

But the godawful truth is that you don't. And typically, you leave nothing more than a little inkstain on the big textbook of things. I am remembered in my university, by a really bad acnefied photo stuck in a huge revolving board in the annex of the civil engineering building. Not too bad a tribute, considering I share spaces with people from the 1890s, and a mini plaque from some scholarship I won.

But leaving this job... nothing.

Hurtful.
Disappointed.

I suppose I deserve it. I wasn't here that long anyway. But being cut out of conversations a month before you leave, well that downright sucks doesn't it.

When our secret weapon left, we missed him. For a while. And then, it was like he was never even here.

Which is what will happen, To Me.

I'm sad.

ANOTHER DAY ANOTHER..

dollar?

puppy?

indescribable menstrual cramp?

Anyway my BROTHER, the geek, managed to take the tag-board off my website. Actually I was beginning to get rather fond of it, despite it reeking of insincerity. There's nothing like waves and waves of flattery to make you puff up with pride and make you feel like people actually read your blog, when in actual fact it is a mental robot sending random messages to random tag boards all around the world. whee. Anyway it is gone now. Let us have a moment of silence...

....

Also he has made my "about me" page work again. The page is now of course, completely irrelevant, because it was written while I was an intern (that was YONKS ago) bumming around in a company, dodging from the eyes of the bosses, but still getting paid (IN CASH mind you). Aaah. Those were the days. Now I am no longer an intern, and things are a far cry from where they used to be. For example, instead of outrageous bumming, I now stealthily bum. You may think little of this, but it is An Art. A Skill. To be stealthily bumming when you work in an office with Glass Walls, meaning you are forever Visible. It means knowing, AT ALL TIMES, the emergency screen which you must immediately flick to when your senses tell you that your associates and directors are within a 2 ft radius. Typically the screen should be a presentation, excel spreadsheet or bloomberg.

Also, it takes away dodging from the bosses element, because I just plain can't. Also I get paid in a check, that is sneakily alot smaller than the sum I am promised on my appointment letter. This is of course due to the magical powers of EPF and SOCSO, NOT some random dude skimming off my pay. But still, I can't help but feel a little cheated and hurt every month when the invisble hand taketh away my money.

So things are Very Different today, than they were yesterday.

ok ciao.

UNOFFICIAL, UNENDORSED, AND TOTALLY ILLEGAL UPDATE ON 4th WORLD

It's still called fourth world.

The sewing machine has been sorted, and reprimanded for misbehaving. Now it's happily dripping in oil, and not making grumpy noises. It sews! Hurrah! Last I looked there was ONE SAIL that looked rather decent up close, but would look mindblowingly magnificent hung up on the wall.

The paintings(?) (the ? is because it's not really a painting per se. It's a painting plus installation. Thing. I can't describe... but its very pretty) are 75% ready. Shaz wants to sell them for an obscenely low price. After convincing her that her target market is not homeless people and school-going children, she has agreed to up it by a tiny bit. Good, I still think its worth more.

By the way I have a plan. To collect her works now. And push her off a cliff one day, thus securing my retirement fund. Bwahahahaha. I think its a genius plan.

The seawater has been collected. Don't ask. I was involved. I have a rash to prove it.

On her opening night, the theme song is, "You Win Again" by the Bee Gees. She doesn't know this yet, and hopefully will never know this because she would not be a happy puppy if she does. But in my head, that's the song I will be singing. She can't stop me from singing in my VERY OWN HEAD... hahahahahahahahaha... thwarted.

So far so good.

THE CORRECT ANSWER

... to the question

"Are you busy?"

especially when asked by your boss.

is yes.

I CAN'T STOP LISTENING TO...

...You Win Again by the Bee Gees

... which happens to be the greatest boy band that ever existed. Yes, even compared to the Beatles. I have a feeling betta will severe out friendship on reading this, but one cannot hide your true self for too long.

But the song reeks of creepiness, listen:

You win again
Some never try
But if anybody can, we can
And I'll be, I'll be FOLLOWING YOU

and no... it doesn't end there. Get this...

You better beware,
I swear I'm gonna be there
One day when you fall
I could never let you cast aside
The greatest love of all

Isn't this the ultimate stalker anthem.

...

NO! I don't stalk people.
Not since the restraining order anyway.