I give up.
In trying to salvage the day, i mean.
It didn't start out on the right foot, and it slowly but steadily ambled downhill from there. Today is one of those days, that I really hate my job. It's difficult to get over the resentment of having worked your ass through school, and then come home to a job so that you can print, bind and summarize documents.
I mean, I could have gone to vocational school and done this shit.
I don't understand why they need me to do this. Don't they know? Don't they have an inkling of how demoralizing, how soul sapping and how ego crushing all this can be? Don't they know that its things like these that can really kill someone?
Some days it comes and goes, some days it doesn't bother me at all. But some days, it is just such a terribly bitter pill to swallow.
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But to be fair, life is good to me in other ways.
I love my badminton, I love the whole process of getting ready for badminton. Digging in my closet for that same shirt, shorts and nifty little red hairband. Hunting for my shoes. Scrounging around for socks. Sometimes remembering to bring a little towel, but mostly not. Walking onto a court, openly staring at people who are better than me, setting up in my little corner.
and then playing.
of course losing kind of sucks.
And then there are other things. My parents, as dysfunctional as they are, I think that some sort of shaky equilibrium has been reached.
I have also come to accept that this is not the same as getting along with them. I can never be friends with my mother, and I will always be 8 years old to my dad. We can never hang out. We can never go on holidays together without breaking out into huge screaming festivals. We will never have similar interests in books, movies or pasttimes. We can never have dinner without someone getting smarmy. I will always hate my mother a little bit. And they will both always be just a little bit disappointed in me. And that is how it is.
My parents are my parents, and I could not love them any more, even if we all did get along.
Hmmm.. what else makes me a happy puppy?
There was the visit to the zoo. That was really good, even though my presence seemed to induce peeing in multiple animals (i.e. deer, large african cow, ostrich and camel who did a number 2)
Also I like eating.
o_O
It makes me happy. Chu yok fun for dinner multiple times a week. Sushi on a saturdays. Miscellanous hawker food fest on sundays at grandma's house. Indulgent overpriced and terribly commercialized starbucks caramel frappucinos. Keropok from the lady at the sungai wang lot ten pedestrian bridge. Mr. nasi lemak in front of my office for breakfast. Home cook food when my mom is in a good mood (rare!). green curry and tofu in damansara jaya. special special food hunting trips to morning market in section 17.
I am no food critic. I can't tell you about taste or presentation or anything vaguely culinary. I love most food, in most places. I eat indiscriminately. I am very fair and impartial, unlike the NEP.
And me brother. The errant hamster. Who sent me the YODA BACKPACK for my christmas present, and took my life one step closer to completeness. Who reads my blog on a regular basis and remits large sums of money into my bank account for no particular reason at all, other than the reason of Brotherly Love for his Baby Sister.
...
ok. but it didn't hurt to try.
and south park. the show that makes me happy. the emotionally detached simpleton of a show that i love.
and poopie. poopie whom i screamed at in public in front of her father at a friend's birthday party ("you like football????!!! NAME THE PLAYERS. COME ON! NAME THEM!"). poopie who was for the longest time, so far away, but is here now. poopie.
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Am going home now.
Good bye new swanky blog!
