Tuesday, May 31, 2005
of all the things i've learnt
These few days have been trying. And I've walked away from it all with a couple of lessons in life.
1. Inaction leads to regret. If you think it, do it. Before it's too late.
2. Mourning is a tiring and painful process. It's meant to be that way.
3. When faced with death in the family, relatives will put aside past indifferences - at least for a couple of days.
4. Sometimes for their own good and to protect their health, you need to withhold certain information from certain people.
5. A minimum sum gets you minimum service. Lump in a few hundred more, and you get the whole works. Everything is about money. Including temples.
::
Rest in peace, uncle. Rest in peace.
Friday, May 27, 2005
through the gripe-vine
I was bombarded by gripes of all manner today. I know my office isn't the best working environment and hell will freeze over before we qualify for a People Development Award. There isn't even a remote chance of receiving a Humane Environment accolade.
Every single day, someone, anyone, everyone will have something to complain about (we are after all mostly Singaporeans).
I'm probably not in a position to criticise/ comment on any of their gripes, given that I confess to be a helluva bitch too. But good Lord, some of the stuff I hear is beyond ridiculous. It's not even logical (I believe in being a reasonable bitch) !
I'm really not at liberty to share the gripes people have unloaded on me, but I just need to say that at times, we just need to take a step back and reassess the situation we face. Threats are no way to go. And they don't work all that often, either. Even if you're prepared to toss this job out of the window, have some pride in your work.
At least you'll be able to leave with your head up high and no one littering your way out with rotten tomatoes.
You owe it to yourself to make your time here worthwhile.
Wednesday, May 25, 2005
with grit teeth...
I came to work this morning. Despite the fact that the top of my head feels like it's going to split apart. I was none too worried about that given it's been throbbing and threatening to explode since last night.
My throat feels like sandpaper. Did you know if your throat feels like sandpaper, even swallowing saliva is a bitch? God.
A hint of illness plagued me all day yesterday. So with much resolve, I packed up and left the office by 615pm, hopped onto a cab and made for home. A slight detour to the Chinese Medical Hall was necessary, to pick up 4 bottles of liang cha.
Once home, I began my almost-ill ritual of dousing myself with generous amounts of liang cha. I don't know why I always do that... maybe I think I can drown the nasty virus with icky herbal tea. And just like that, I finished all 4 bottles. I kickass, man.
That also led to an unnaturally high number of toilet trips throughout the night. By the end of the evening, my pee was as clear as mountain dew.
Gratified by the success of this ritual, I went to bed. And slept. And slept. And was late for work this morning.
So now tell me why, my head still feels like it's going to split and my throat, like the roughest sandpaper.
Keep gritting teeth. It's only 10.15am.
Tuesday, May 24, 2005
my criminal mind
A few days ago, I was effectively called a con artist (in more words than that).
It was clearly insuinated that I was aware of a certain HR screw-up in my previous pay cheques but kept mum about it with the sole intention to cheat the company of some measly amount.
Ah, my criminal mind.
Nevermind that I trusted the HR department to be professional and careful when handling payroll. Nevermind that I naively assumed that certain allowances were not to be pro-rated.
And now, with the advent of the new super HR Mole, my criminal ways have been exposed. I am so upset.
This is like a B grade super-cop versus super-villian Bollywood flop.
Haughty and arrogant, the Mole must be delirious with joy that she unveilled another of her ex-boss's bloopers. She made a frantic dash to report this joyful bit of information to the Jellyfish. I have never seen a Mole of those proportions move so fast.
Did I mention that I am so upset?
I am so upset. Upset that I'll never be able to pull a fast one like this anymore. Of course nevermind the minor detail that I don't ever get to touch payroll and wouldn't be able to do evil adjustments in my favour.
I am so upset. Upset that the Mole will now have a reason to deduct all the ill-gotten gains from my next pay cheque. I mourn for my loot.
I have such a criminal mind. Maybe next time I shall attempt to rob Finance of their petty cash.
::
In all indignance, I feel like telling Jellyfish and the Mole that they can take that puny allowance and stick it up their respectively skinny and fat asses. Cos I don't give a shit.
Monday, May 23, 2005
sim lim trooper for a day
Joining the army of Sim Lim Troopers, I made a hesitant foray into Sim Lim Square this afternoon.
It technically wasn't my first trip there, but I made sure that previous experiences were brief (under 10 minutes) and distant (standing outside the building with a cold drink).
Today, however, was the real McCoy. We went there because the boyfriend needed a new harddisk for his cranky notebook.
The basement carpark was full, as it turned out. But it took less than 10 minutes for us to get in and find a lot. It reminds me of Plaza Singapura's perpetually-full parking facility and extremely high turnround rate.
Sim Lim Square on a Public Holiday afternoon was chaotic, to say the least. It overturned my prior impressions of Sim Lim Troopers - not only were there geeky technie guys, but also entire 3-generation extended families and young couples on awkward dates.
If Orchard Towers is known as 4 floors of whores, then Sim Lim Square must be 6 floors of hawking. The first vision I had of each floor was that of a flutter of paper. More specifically, a barrage of pamphlets - largely tacky A4-sized black-and-white photocopied pricelists - that were crudely chucked, stuffed and forced onto innocent victims.
Elbowing through this first line of offense, we came to an unitdy row of shop units, each hawking their similiar wares in similar fashion. As we ventured into shop after shop, I quickly came to realise the Golden Phrase of Sim Lim Square. Just as "sale" works on women, "best price" works on Sim Lim Troopers.
"Dis bland famous for dis ploduct one! I give you best price, boss! Best price!"
"Dis one $xxx. Cheap! Best price, best price!"
"$xxx best price already lah. Cannot lower, I lose money liao."
We finally managed to find the harddisk the boyfriend was looking for, and hastily made off.
It's tiring being a Sim Lim Trooper, I tell you.
::
Afternote: I realise the words are choppy and the paragraphs, disjointed. Take it was a pseudo-stream of consciousness entry then; I'm rather distracted watching the Cowherd and Fairy Weaver Hongkie drama on cable now. heh.
Saturday, May 21, 2005
spoofed
Talk this way henceforth, I shall. Watched Revenge of the Sith, indeed I have. Just like Master Yoda, I am.
Irritating, is it not?
::
The only Star Wars show that I watched was Episode 4. The original 1977 one. It was compulsory for a film class I took. heh.
So today, I gamely trooped off to watch Episode 3 - the story of Anikin Skywalker. Armed with (highly limited) knowledge from my previous Star-Wars experience, I was none too worried watching Obiwan Kenobi duel with whats-his-name. Cos I knew he wouldn't die.
Embarrassingly, for the first 3/4s of the show, I thought Anikin's wife (Padme? Panda? Something like that - he doesn't speak very clearly) was Princess Leia. You can imagine how terribly confused I got when "Princess Leia" got pregnant: I hadn't known that the Star Wars series involved 3 generations of Skywalkers.
When Anikin began wavering towards the Dark Side, I dismissed it as a plot ploy of twists. Until he swore allegiance to that ugly Chancellor bloke, I really got confused. Leaning over and tugging my boyfriend's sleeve, I had to ask...
"Anikin is Luke's son or father?"
::
But my most embarrassing cinematic experience thus far was watching AVP. I remember watching it with my boyfriend and several of our mutual uni mates. All guys. All yapping away about AVP-this and AVP-that. Losing by majority vote, I was coerced into watching AVP.
So I sat there concentrating with all my might, eyebrows furrowed as I desperately tried to follow the (largely absent) storyline. Then there was that scene where the Alien and the Predator came face-to-face for a bloodthirsty fight.
At that crucial point, I just had to ask...
"Which is the Alien and which, the Predator?"
::
Stick with gooey romance movies, I should.
Friday, May 20, 2005
washed out
I'm still wondering. Pondering. Thinking. Replaying.
What went wrong?
Why! *throws accusing look upwards* Why didn't they want me!
I must admit it is taking some measure of courage to type this out in black and pink. It's less real if I just keep it in my mind. But no, I must have the confidence and the unfailing self esteem to announce this to the cyberworld. My job application was rejected.
And I really wanted to work there. Crap!
:::
As providence would have it, just as I finished typing the above, I found out that someone's leaving.
Bitter-sweet indeed.
Everyone's happy for her - at least I know I am. But at the same time, it means yet another Giant is leaving the Place. Two down, so many more of us to go... I wonder when it will be my turn.
Coming back to me (since yes, my universe does centre around me, myself and I), I don't know whether to feel encouraged that there is indeed hope or disheartened that my time hasn't come.
:::
Dear Mochi, don't be sad to leave us, and don't shed any more tears. We're not colleagues; we are friends. And friends don't need to work together. Life over there will definitely be tougher but take heart that your struggle will be worth your while. Grab the prospects before you. You will go far. And when you do, buy me dinner!
We'll miss you, gal.
strike mode
I'm on strike mode.
I could walk around the office with a bandana round my forehead (reading DIE! or KILL! in Mandarin). I could carry a sign that screaming "Down with the Empire!" or "Die Jellyfish, DIE!". I could scribble demands on the pristine office walls in blood. I could inspire a sit-down protest at the lobby.
Or I could do what I'm doing now: stone at my desk.
Why am I on strike mode, you ask.
Why not? I think it's a periodical thing, you know. I get into these phases every once in awhile. Must be the shifting of the moons. My ruling moon could have shifted from the worker-ant sector to the lazy-grasshopper sector. God is wise.
As I sit here typing about nothing, random thoughts come to mind...
:::
Last night I had the oddest dream. Let me try to vaguely relate this from my thread-bare memory.
I was in a room. There were other people around. I remember the feeling of being oppressed. Bullied.
One guy was carrying a big long snake as if it were baby. The cretin had curled itself around his arms; its menacing head straining towards me. I remember backing off... one step at a time, my eyes fixated on the creature. I backed into a wall.
I stood there cringing. The man took a step forward. The snake was so close to me, I'm certain it could feel my ragged breathing on its scaly body. My entire being was focused on its forked tongue. Then oh so slowly, the snake reached forward, and I felt its tongue caress my neck.
I'm serious! I felt it! I was so damn startled that I was literally jolted awake. Even then, I could still feel that spine-chilling sensation. I reached out and checked the time. Barely 6am. Crap. Shite. Back to sleep.
The most interesting thing of all is that I remember that last bit so vividly. I'm usually the sort who at best can remember having a dream, but never the contents of it.
Creepy.
:::
Recently I keep thinking to myself that I should stop fighting the System. It seems like such a lose-lose situation. Plus it's really tiring.
And I think I have, to some extent.
The Place has numbed me: numbed all my ideals and visions; aspirations and goals. So much so that I just dismiss everything with a whatever.
Shite used to bother me on a personal level. And I mean really disturb. At a very fundamental level, I felt some stuff was downright wrong and I couldn't fathom why nobody was doing anything about it. Everyone just worked within the constraints of the System.
And even though I find myself doing the same, more and more often. I can't help but blame myself for perpetuating the wrong.
I was told that such Systems exist everywhere. They are inevitable so sometimes you just convince yourself that "things are just that way". I was surprised at the brutual honesty that came from this man. A man whom I felt was passionate and inspirational - a radical element of change and improvement.
Maybe things are really just meant to be that way.
I just need to persuade myself now.
Or leave.
Tuesday, May 17, 2005
sod off!
It was a usual day at work. You know, hectic with emails pouring in, telephone ringing off the hook with irritants asking for stuff to be done, re-done and re-re-done just because they can't make up their minds or think things through before giving instructions.
But I digress.
So, like I was saying, a usual day at work. My office phone rings, and I answer with my professional, polite voice. A male voice comes through, stuttering and stammering and asking if I am who I am, despite the fact that I had mentioned my name in greeting.
I roll my eyes in irritation; my voice remains patient and polite. Official call, right?
So person starts asking if I am interested in some dunno-what financial workshop. I am puzzled. I ask in reply if his query is whether my organisation would be interested.
Official call, right? Maybe potential tie-up, I think. Or better yet, potential advertiser! I like.
Oh noooooooooo.. he clarifies. He's asking about me. Personal call. Now that's really weird.
I have to probe.
How did you get my number? I don't give out my office number.
Erm. Erm. This sort of information can be bought, he laughs awkwardly.
Man, did that piss me off!
In all indignance (and empowered by the knowledge that this is not an offical call), I lash out at said person.
Then I want to know where you bought my information from, I spat.
Person remains innocuous to my prying question, and replies in all earnest, I can't tell you that. It's confidential.
I almost did a perfect-score triple backflip.
That's confidential?! Wouldn't my personal particulars be more confidential?! This is beyond ridiculous! I almost yelled at the poor bugger.
He stuttered and stammered again and returned something incoherent. Then he tried that awkward laugh of his.
I wanted to tell him that a geeky ha-ha ain't gonna get him off the hook, but thinking to myself that he could be a poor student part-timing for food allowance, I decided not to. (Or perhaps the boss happened to walk by, thus impeding my ability to curse and swear.)
I decided to finish him off with a warning. My voice turned sugary sweet but thick with sarcasm and malice.
I would appreciate it so much if you could delete my personal information from your illicit database. And convey a message to whomever you bought this data from that he had better not let me find out who he is...
And with that said, I promptly slammed down the receiver.
He never called back.
Smirk.
you know your boss is deluded when...
1. You're slogging 12-hour days/nights, and he says, "You know, you're lucky. You don't have much work to do. Unlike me."
Right. That's why he leaves earlier than I do. That's why I don't see him in the office on weekends and public holidays. Because he has so much to do.
2. You barely have time for friends, family and boyfriend, and he says, "People with family are the ones who need more time. I have kids!"
Uh-huh. It doesn't matter that I'll might never have a family of my own.
3. You work in a politicking, backstabbing organisation, and he says, "Life is so good here. I hope we don't pamper you too much."
What a cushy life! I'm sure I'm losing my survival instincts each time I dodge a arrow or pull out a dagger from my ass.
Note how I am not naming names here. I am not as smart as high-flying scholarship holder, so I cannot anyhow say.
Thursday, May 12, 2005
a series of unfortunate events
I've been meaning to write this post the whole day but everytime I got down to typing it out, an ominous feeling would overcome me and I would know - the day was only going to get worse.
Today was made up of a series of unfortunate events. Or more accurately, one disheartening piece of news and a couple of irritating happenings.
So at the strike of 6 o'clock, I made a mad dash home. And on the journey home, I composed a 45-minute blog entry in my head. And although the junk food that was dinner seems to have erased a substantial portion of it from my memory, I still remember disappointment, indignance, weariness and other generally unhappy emotions.
It's just as well I waited until the end of the work day and after I devoured my dinner to write this. Otherwise this entry would be a string of vulgarities and a whole load of unpleasant thoughts about certain people.. involving voodoo dolls, curses and their posterity.
But now, I'm undeniably calmer and less disturbed by Thursday the 12th. I just need a quiet evening at home - languishing on my bed, notebook on-hand and television turned on.
Lets just pray I don't fall down an elevator shaft tomorow.
Tuesday, May 10, 2005
you know someone's a nerd when..
.. he compares statistics with bikinis:
"statistics are like bikinis: what they reveal is crucial; but what they conceal is vital".
***
*snigger snigger*
I'm such a biatch. Ya, I know.
Sunday, May 08, 2005
of the big apple
You Belong in New York CityYou're an energetic, ambitious woman. And only NYC is fast enough for you. Maybe you'll set yourself up with a killer career Or simply take in all the city has to offer What City Do You Belong in? |
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