Give me one moment in time.

I had a little moment this evening. Other than pouring my heart out to complete strangers (which are you, you and you my dear readers), I think the only other person whom I’ve released my innermost feelings to, is X. I think it’s kinda cathartic to purge all emotions to people who don’t know you, but yet know you because you have no filter online. To X, I’m not sure why I do it either, but it feels like some sort of therapy because he’s such a great listener and provides such empathetic insights. To be honest, not even my parents or siblings know completely the things I talk about here.

But tonight, I don’t know why I let my vulnerability show. Was just having some drinks with my BFFAE (Best Friend Forever And Ever), and suddenly, the morbid topic of mortality came up. I’m very practical with the number of years I may potentially have because the statistics are against me no matter which angle you look at it from. It’s not that I’m gunning for sympathy or whatever shit, but years and years of research do not lie. There may be outliers, but come on, how many of them are lucky enough to fall out of the radar?

So we were just talking about it as I usually do with other people when this topic comes up, and suddenly, I felt so sad that I may be soon (in the near future) be part of that number. And then I started tearing. In a freaking bar. People looking at us must have thought that he initiated a break up or something lol, because I was dabbing my eyes. And I couldn’t stop feeling sorry for myself. But the worst part was having to come home and revert to being my cheery, mad cap self. And just like in the dramas, I did an ugly cry (no need to look in the mirror, I’m very sure it was ugly with a scrunched up face and all) while showering because the running water would muffle my stifled sobs and hopefully wash all my dramatic tears away.

I deduce that one reason I put up such a front in front (no pun intended) of others is because I’m independent. Or rather, I have trained myself to be. And that’s also the persona that I present myself to other people because I don’t want anyone to see me as weak. But it’s so difficult sometimes. This must have suppressed for some time now because why else would I let my BFFAE see me cry? I’ve known him for 19 years and I’m sure as hell he has never seen me cry. Not when I was first diagnosed and hospitalised all those years ago. Not when I told him I might go blind in the future. Not even when I told him all about X. Why now?

I don’t have any answers to be honest, but what I realise is how difficult it can be trying to be “strong” or “independent” or “positive” when all I really want, or need, at the end of the day is someone to give me a big, tight hug. A hug so strong that it can piece my broken insides together again.

xoxoxoxo.

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Sucks to be you.

I’m so glad to be living in the present than in the past. I’ve been watching some period dramas (think ancient China) and a local production which shows life a century ago, and boy, do women have it tough in those days.

Like in ancient China, all those women who were a part of the emperor’s harem, either were obsessed with birthing his child, or scheming against one another. I would never survive then. I would probably be tricked by those cunning women and die an early death. And I know bearing the emperor’s child was a big deal (especially if it’s a son), but seriously women, there’s more to life than that ok. And all they ever did was to walk around the garden admiring flowers (which I hate), doing some form of embroidery, or eat snacks and have tea. And to seduce the emperor, I’d either have to ace the art of sensual dancing, or be super coquettish. Yucks. Gag Central. All these while trying to fend off enemies and racing to be on top. Thanks but no thanks.

Then the show about lives a century back. Women still had it tough. Your marriage would be arranged and you had no say in it, and you’re expected to cook, clean and be a sow basically. And if your family falls on hard times, you’d either be sold off to prostitution or raped as a form of punishment.

The past weeks as I’m watching these shows, I say a silent prayer of thanks that I wasn’t born in those era. It may be fiction but I believe that it was inspired more or less by real lives back then. Also thankful that I’m born in this part of the world, because patriarchal (and egoistical) societies still exist in other parts of the world. And it’s really sad (have also been watching documentaries about women being degenerated in general).

I’m so grateful that I have the freedom and independence to travel, work, socialise and behave the way I am without worrying about my safety, or whatever society would say, especially because I don’t conform to social norms. I cannot imagine what my life would be if I had to follow the template of life that my ancestors did. Perhaps I’d be a rebel. Or I’d be dead a long time ago because nobody likes a troublemaker.

xoxoxoxo.

The Great Depression.

I cannot believe that the weeks are just zooming by like tennis balls that have been hit by Serena Williams. How come I used to be able to write about three to four times a month, when now I’d count myself lucky if I could manage just one post a month?

Just to quickly round up what’s been happening recently, first and foremost, I may be going blind. Went for my annual eye checkup, and there are little spots of blood in my eyes. Because it’s a natural progression of diabetes, there’s nothing much I can do except to really control my HbA1c to delay its progression. I’m currently in the very mild stage of non-proliferative diabetic retinopathy (NPDR), but it will eventually develop to mild, to moderate, to severe, then full-blown PDR. No one can tell me how long it takes to degenerate but it’s there. Just like a ticking time bomb. Fuck, my life is a ticking time bomb. Fuck diabetes. Yup, today is one of those days I’m not embracing my condition.

And since we’re on depressing issues, here’s another one. Quarter 3 just ended and I did not achieve my sales targets once again. That makes six months of having zero incentive. Quarter 4’s targets are not out yet, but I’m quite sure it’s not going to be achievable because of circumstances.

Life can be so hard sometimes. An acquaintance’s partner recently committed suicide. While I don’t know the full story, it seems that she had depression and she decided to end it all after an argument. I cannot imagine the trauma of the person left behind (he found her body), and most certainly cannot imagine what drove her to it. This depression sounds like a real scary monster. I hope no one has to go through something terrible like that, no one deserves to. There are no victors in this battle.

I do apologise if reading this upset or spoiled your day. No idea why I’m feeling such melancholy. Is it the weather? Is mercury in retrograde? Am I just a pot that has been left boiling and thus have bubbled over? I don’t know, I really don’t.

xoxoxoxo.

Zero distance.

The distance between Singapore and Paris is more than 10,000km, approximately between 10,720 to 10,732 depends on which map you refer to. But does this matter? Not really. At least not to me.

X just returned home after a three-week sojourn, and asked to meet me. I bought lottery for real because we have not physically met in about two years, but here he is, asking me out. Against the angry, imaginary voices of all my friends who so condemn him, I went anyway hahaha. The forbidden fruit is tempting indeed.

We had dinner, and went for a cuppa, and then all of a sudden he announces that he has something for me. I was thinking maybe he brought me orangettes because that’s what I love from Paris. To all who did not read my blog from eons ago, this man absolutely loathes buying gifts for people. But I have been very fortunate to have received two bags from his trips in 2012 and 2016, bags which I still treasure and use to this day. So there my greedy guts was cheering Yay food!, but then he whipped out this tiny little paper bag smaller than my palm.

Holy cow it looks like jewellery! I mean only jewellery usually comes in such ridiculously sized bags right? To be honest, I felt a slight trepidation when he asked me to open it. I wanted to joke if he was asking me to marry him but I stopped myself because we all know that ain’t going to happen yo. So with slightly trembling hands, I opened the even tinier drawstring bag, and out tumbled a necklace. Holy shit.

And then there was meaning behind it (although this man hates buying gifts, he puts tons of thought into them when he does), part bringing a memento of Paris home to me, part blessings for me. And then he told me the story of how it took him an awfully long time to decide what to buy, which colour to buy (even thinking of how it’d complement my skin tone), if it would suit me, and most importantly, if I’d love it. Silly. Seriously he could have brought home a fallen leaf and I’d still cherish it.

And then my heart started racing. Spineless woman! I know that we will only be friends till the day we die, but I couldn’t help feeling overwhelmed. The irrational side of me said, “Woman, he likes you!”, but the logical part of me was mildly (very mildly) annoyed because why do this to me if we’re just friends? Friends don’t buy jewellery for each other and put that much thought into it.

However, I’m happy to report that my feelings for him are no longer as strong. Not because I have my sights on someone else, but because I know if I keep doing that to myself, I’m the one who’s going to end up hurting. But I love this man, I really do. (Blocking off the angry, imaginary mob of friends.)

Nevertheless, I’m extremely touched at the effort he put into the gift and I think no one else will ever come a close second for me. I’m spoiled for life.

xoxoxoxo.

(Near) Death by cockroach.

Guys. I just nearly died. All I wanted to do was to pee. The light in the toilet has just gone disco bat shit crazy, so in order not to trip, fall and die, I turned on the kitchen light so that I can at least see my way.

The sudden light must have also scared that fucking cockroach when it came on because it kinda jumped at the same time I did. And then all hell breaks loose. It decided to start running. In my direction. I was about to do a triple jump because I saw it coming at me. But what bad timing it was. Just as I landed, my gigantaur (to it at least) foot came down on it. And even though the next moments lasted maybe all of three seconds, it came in slow mo and probably clinched the title of the fucking grossest three seconds of my entire life.

*BE WARNED, GRAPHIC DESCRIPTION FOLLOWS*

First I heard a crunch, and we all can guess where it came from. Then as an aftermath of the massive crush (also to Mr. C), its innards came loose and got smeared onto my foot. Fucking gross I know. I’m still shuddering at the thought of it. And then I slipped because its fucking innards made my foot slick (EEWWWWWW). Then I start flailing (exactly like in cartoons) and all that’s going through my mind is “Oh god this is how I’m going to die!”. So I try my best to regain my balance, and in the process, bang my right knee and also scrape it, kinda lost my left footing and now everywhere fucking hurts.

I don’t think I sprained anything because I don’t feel the pain, but I’m very sure I’ll get a massive bruise on my right knee. Let’s survey the damage tomorrow.

And you know how researchers have concluded that cockroaches are bloody hardy things (I mean they were around since dinosaurs roamed the land)? I have confirmed that they are right. Imagine me coming at it at full force and at such sudden impact (and I’m no where as light as a feather btw) plus losing it’s innards, and all the bugger did was to flip over. I thought it was dead so I confidently only used one piece of tissue to pick it up. But nooooo. It fucking struggled and fell back to the ground.

By this time I was in mild hysteria and screaming silently in my head because god forbid I wake the house up. Had to use a wad of tissues in the end and quickly flushed that bugger away. YUCKS. I HOPE YOU DIE AND DON’T EVER COME BACK.

As I’m typing, I feel the right toe on my right foot hurting as well. Perhaps in the chaos I kinda did a pirouette or something because why else would my toe be in pain? And now, I’m also traumatised. Might have to hold in whatever pee I have till daybreak.

But seriously. Imagine if I had gotten more seriously injured. What would people think if they asked how I got injured and I replied, “I stepped on a cockroach”. Omg loser much.

xoxoxoxo.

We did what?

Time really flies even when you’re not having fun. Just came home (actually it was Friday evening) from the longest week in Malaysia from our Cycle Sales Meeting and I’m so pooped. Everyday, it’s like we’re either having training sessions or meetings that run from 0900hrs to 1830hrs. There was even one day that ran till 1930hrs. You can say that there was nothing that I looked forward to.

Except maybe one teeny tiny thing. Remember Mr. Perfect from my January kick-off meeting? He, perhaps was the only bright spark in the dullest of the dullest sessions. Even though I flew in on Monday morning, I only saw him on Wednesday because we are in different teams and had zero opportunity to meet.

And then, as luck would have it, he fell and injured both hands during our team building sesh, and only appeared very late into our gala dinner. I now realise that I have ZERO photos of our team. That probably shows you how unenthusiastic I was.

So anyways, somehow he ended up at my table, and one drink became two, then became 10 and then everything was almost a blur. I don’t remember the full details of what transpired, but I remember him kissing me on the cheek while I was talking to someone. And of course maybe half the company saw it. I still have people asking me what happened that night. Trust me. I’d love to know too lol.

After that, things got really hazy and I remember him randomly kissing my arm and other people’s arm as well hahaha. And then at one point I found myself sitting on the ground becoming his back rest. And he just laid on me like it was the most natural thing in the world to do. This too, happened in front of a crowd, and again, I’m dying to know what exactly happened.

I did not ask anyone partly because I was afraid by what I was going to hear lol. I doubt I did anything too embarrassing but you’ll really never know. What I do remember is him asking me to call him, for what reason I don’t know because he was lying on me but I did anyway. So now I have his number but nothing has been done. It’s just sitting around in my contacts list.

And that was the only interesting nugget really. It’s not even super exciting but I really have nothing else to share. Unless maybe you’d find my work life fun. Day started last Monday at 0400hrs (had to catch the first flight out), returned Friday evening, worked till late Saturday afternoon and the week starts again today, AND I have to work this Saturday as well. Wheee how lovely my life is panning out.

My life is getting so mundane, my next post may be about me watching my toenails grow. Watch this space.

xoxoxoxo.

Why me again?

Hello. It’s almost 5am where I am and I can’t sleep. I won’t pretend it’s because I’m thinking of how to save the world. I allude it to the fact that I took a “nap” earlier from 7-9pm lol.

So since I cannot sleep, I’ll tell you what’s bugging me recently. Remember in January when I said I visited my fengshui lady and she told me I’d change jobs this year? And I brushed it off because I simply didn’t believe it? Well.. It seems that it may just come true. Without going into too much details, let’s just say I’m facing a big crisis at work. My product is potentially going to be monopolised by a new but same product in a higher strength coming in at a lower price. Yup. I don’t get it either. So I’ll be having a discussion with my manager and country manager on Monday about this.

Since our probation period in most pharma companies is about six months, I’ll be in my sixth this month. Which makes me stuck between the devil and the deep blue sea. If I get confirmed, I’d have to serve two months notice. I already went without a single cent of incentive the past three months. Should I continue, it seems like I’d not get any either till the end of the year. And that in turn will affect my performance review next year. If I leave, my resume is really going to look crappy because it seems like I job hop very often.

This is so frustrating. I really am starting to think that the god of unlucky is leeching onto me. Why is it wherever I go, bad luck seems to follow? And to think I have team mates who work for half a day or less can achieve their targets without hardly breaking into a sweat. I sometimes work almost non-stop for nine hours (extremely unheard of as a pharma sales rep), have to beg for sales (which I used to pride myself on not having to do) and still have nothing to show for it. Extremely frustrating.

I only told my mum, one colleague and briefly to X (because he sensed that something was up from my IG post) so far. I’m trying to keep it all in. Told myself to hang on for another half a year at least, but I’m really not sure if I can.

Perhaps this industry is no longer suited for me even though I love it. The thought of leaving this altogether scares me. What else can I do? I don’t possess other talents or skills that can propel me further. The only thing I have is my mouth. Not to do shameful things if that’s what you dirty minds are thinking about. My ability to talk is all I have, but I’m not sure what or where it can bring me.

Oh dear lord I’m so tired. Why does it seem that it’s always me you’re picking on? What did I ever do?

xoxoxoxo.

Did you really just say that?

I just shared a post on IG relating to Type 1 Diabetes (T1D) and the stupid things that people say to me every.single.day. So I thought it’d be fun to engage you in some mass eye-rolling activity together. These are just a few of my personal “favourites”.

  • “Can you eat that?!”

Omg. I hear this almost on a daily basis. People actually watch me put things in my mouth. Worse are some of my work colleagues who think they are experts just because they sell insulins. They question EVERYTHING I eat. Or even during festive occasions. Come on guys, that single pineapple tart that I eat once a year is not going to kill me. I’ve had this for 17 years this year, I believe I know what I’m doing, so give me a break.

  • “But.. But you don’t look diabetic!”

Okayyyy. So am I supposed to have T1D tattooed across my forehead? Many people always exclaim that I look healthy or normal. Last I checked, Diabetes is an endocrine disorder, it doesn’t give me a third eye or leg. Or perhaps you expect me to be in a wheelchair with all my limbs falling off like wilting petals. Just go and educate yourself a little more so you don’t come across as looking like the village idiot. πŸ™„

  • “Have you tried eating/drinking *this*? It will cure you!”

First and foremost, this is an illness not a disease. And I’m sure if there was a cure, I’d be cured by now. Unless you’re one of those who believe in the Big Pharma Conspiracies, then you can leave now.

  • “I don’t know how you do it, injecting yourself so many times a day. I’m sure I can’t do it!”

Errmmmm. Of course. This is the trade off for wanting to be alive. Can you believe people actually make stupid, brainless comments like these?!?! πŸ™„πŸ™„πŸ™„

  • “I’m sure you’re used to it (injections) by now, so it’s not painful right?”

Hello, this is flesh we’re talking about. Of course it fucking hurts sometimes when I hit a wrong spot. Did you think I surgically attached steel abs or something?

  • “You’re going to be a burden someday.”

SO ARE YOU, YOU BLEEDING IDIOT. Burdening somebody with your pure idiocy and ignorance.

  • “T1 is the more serious one compared to T2 right?”

Again, go google it or something. One is not worse off than the other, it’s just some parts are not working as well as they should (in layman terms) genetically. In other words, our (T1s) pancreas just gave up on us.

  • “You shouldn’t be drinking alcohol.”

And you should be minding your own business. What are you? My mother? FYI my mum doesn’t even control me. I cannot be controlled. I do what I want, when I want. I’m here for a good time, not a long time. If I restrict myself to everything then what’s the fucking point of living? I know I can be excessive but really, just shut it.

  • “Omg I think I may have diabetes too!” (After asking what the signs and symptoms are)

If you suspect you are, go see a doctor. Having one hypo episode or maybe feeling thirsty could be because you haven’t eaten or ate too much MSG. Don’t trivialise my illness and make it about yourself.

And my absolute favourite:

  • “You’re so sweet you make me diabetic.”

I don’t see the funny in this. Which part of this do you even find amusing? Don’t make a joke out of us. Quit being insensitive. Do you think it’s right if I said “You’re so poisonous you’re making me cancerous” to a person suffering from cancer? No right? So stop saying shit like that.

Off my head, these are the common ones that I get almost daily. Not sure if people are just trying to make conversations or have no filter for stupidity. If you’re guilty of saying such things, stop. Sometimes we just smile and let it pass because we choose to believe that either you’re ignorant, we’re too polite to tell you off, or we just let stupidity pass. I mean, we have to pick our battles right? I hope you had fun reading this, or at least your eyeballs got some exercise. My eyeballs are so well-trained by now that I believe it can roll all the way back into my head and back.

xoxoxoxo.

Who let out the crazies?

It seems like I’m on a roll for angry posts but I need to get this off my chest. I’ve said it before, but respect is earned, not given. I don’t care if you’re family, a friend, a co-worker, a complete stranger, an old person, or anybody at all.

Don’t think that just because you’ve done right by me once, and therefore I have to take every shit of yours. I don’t like to owe people anything, so once I’ve paid my dues (whether you think I did or not), my tolerance of your bullshit gets lower and lower. Just because I choose to be quiet does not mean I’ll let you trample all over me. Don’t expect me to grovel to you forever for that one favour you did for me. I helped you loads too so I’ve gone above and beyond what I had to do. It’s just respect I have for you. Or had.

You keep talking shit about me and tell others to talk to me so I “wake up”, but excuse me, YOU’RE the delusional one. Now you know why you have so little friends? Everything is always somebody else’s fault. You keep saying that about C, but do you realise that you’re exactly like him?! And because you keep talking shit about others, you get so paranoid and always suspect that people are talking bad about you. Well, congratulations, WE ARE. Not talking bad per se, but just discussing you in general. You think we don’t talk to each other? You think we don’t compare and corroborate versions of stories you tell us? And when we do, it just makes you look stupid and loserish.

We used to respect you because of hierarchy and we really felt that you deserve it, but sadly, not anymore. Isn’t it sad how things turned out? From someone we all looked up to to someone we look down upon. Stalk me for all I care. Go watch every instastory I post (because of your paranoia). If you think this post resonates deeply with you, then yeah, you’re probably the one I’m talking about. And like I said before, this is MY personal space, therefore I say whatever I like. So sue me.

xoxoxoxo.

It’s fuck off-o’clock.

Hey, how is it that it’s June already?! Not possible!

Anyway, I’m sorry, but this is a ranting post again. As you all now know, I’m a one-woman show covering more than a hundred specialists on my own on this tiny island (not counting the hundreds of GPs whom I don’t have time for) I call home. It hasn’t been easy trying to meet all of them, but I’m getting there slowly but surely.

It has been through this job that I truly understand and appreciate time, and every minute of my work day is as precious as precious be. I shuttle between minimally three to four locations each day, and time management is really crucial because once I miss the boat, my entire day’s schedule gets fucked up.

Also because of my current role, my lunch and tea meetings with friends have been drastically cut down because either I don’t have time to eat, or I’m rushing around. So for me to meet someone for lunch these days is actually quite a rare thing. Not that I’m saying I’m Miss Popularity 2018 or something, but it really is quite a challenge getting hold of me now.

So today, a friend was going to meet me for lunch at 1.30pm. And then this morning, she said she could meet at 1.00pm. I had to change my plan of dropping by the office because of this, but I agreed anyway. So guess what time said friend shows up. 1.35pm. Excuse: She got hijacked by a colleague. Of course I was pissed. In that 35 minutes, I could have gone back to the office as per my original plans and tick another item off my never ending to-do list! So I posted this on my insta story. And I honestly don’t see why it’s wrong to ask people to respect my time when I respect theirs.

My friend bought me lunch in the end to make up for it even though I tried to pay her back. Hours later, she texted me saying “someone” told her to watch my story. And now that “somebody” is also asking for a beating. First, it’s none of your fucking business, so why are you being a tattletale? Second, I can see who has seen my story and I know for sure who was that snitch. So anyway, said friend asked me to remove my story AND said that the lunch she bought me balanced things out.

EXCUSE FUCKING ME. THIS IS MY PERSONAL SPACE AND I SAY WHATEVER I WANT WHEN I FEEL LIKE IT. WHO ARE YOU TO TELL ME WHAT OR NOT TO POST?! And seriously, don’t think your measly meal of $12 is enough to buy 35 minutes of my time. Do you know how much I get paid per hour?! (Sorry I don’t mean to sound like a snob here but this friend is always dripping in big brands trying to prove something to the world.) I felt fucking insulted. Even if you bought me steak cooked by Gordon Ramsay it wouldn’t “balance things off”. Fuck. Thinking back about it makes me mad.

Of course I didn’t remove my post. And I’m not making any apologies because I did no wrong except to state facts. Whatever reason you had, you should have updated me earlier (which she said she would but obviously didn’t). So your time is precious but mine is not? πŸ™„πŸ™„πŸ™„

Seriously, I’ve had enough of some people. I feel that I’m getting less and less tolerant of people and their bullshit. I don’t have time for all these. If you’re not happy with me being brutally honest, or as some of my friends say, honestly brutal, you’re most welcome to remove me from your life, because does it look like I fucking care or give any flying fucks? Of course not.

In fact, I think I need to reassess my friend list. Some people cannot handle the truth because I guess as the saying goes, truth hurts. Well, boo bloody hoo, but that’s life for you. Cry me a river.

xoxoxoxo.