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.



U.G.L.Y Ugly, that’s what you are.

Guys. I have to be the bad person here. I’m sure I’ve said it before but I have to do it again.


Recently on our local tv, they’re airing this drama called babies on board or something equally creative πŸ™„. Without even having to watch it you’ll know it’s about babies. So it’s like one week into the plot, and it’s all about women wanting babies. Like it’s their mission in life or something. They go through shit and more just to try to conceive. Honestly I’m so irritated, but it’s my dinner time so I basically am just rolling my eyes and swearing at the tv everyday.

Then comes real life. I’ve been surrounded by these screaming fuckers lately. And not only do their parents not attempt to restrain them, but they look on upon them with such adoration that you’d think they just saw the three wise men bearing gifts of frankincense and myrrh and whatsthelastgift. Seriously shut the fuck up and stop polluting the environment around me.

And are all parents blind or something? Honestly, I saw pictures of this gremlin (no, really this baby is fugly) and the mother’s caption was something along the lines of, “Best thing that ever happened to me! Just look at this cutie patootie!” complete with heart eyes and all. Seriously, no. I zoomed in. I tried to look at it from every possible angle. That thing is no where near cute. He. Is. Fugly. I guess that’s where the saying “having a face only its mother would love” was derived from.

I mean come on, let’s all be honest here. If you come across an ugly adult, you’d just say or think the way it is, right? But for babies/children, no one ever seems to be able to speak the truth. Let’s not forget how these creatures are actually the most brutal in nature. Remember how your classmates said the nastiest things to you when you were young? There you go. You’re welcome.

So I still stand by my words. If you’re ugly, you’re ugly. It’s ok, it’s not a crime, just bad luck with the gene pool. Just make up for it with a kind heart or an amazing personality when you’re older. But the next parent who coos to my face that their kid is cute/pretty/handsome when they’re not, you’ll just have to take in some hard truths. So there. I said it. I’m a meanie but at least I’m honest. So be like me, and call a baby ugly if you think it. The truth sucks, but get over it, that’s life.


I am the alpha and omega of swinging singles.

I am getting so lazy these days lol. From an average of four posts a month down to about one hahaha. Also, these days it’s all about work, so nothing really interesting has come up lately.

You know how people say that folks who have been single too long are the hardest to love? I think I’ll have to agree. I find myself wanting to do everything by myself that even my colleagues say I’m gentlemanly. And when a man wants to do something small like carrying a tray back to the table for me, I find myself jostling to do it. An ex-manager even told me to let men do little things for me, because that’s how men express their love and concern sometimes. This happened after I fought with him about who gets to carry my heavy work-laden bag. Being single forces you to handle every issue yourself because there is literally no one hanging by your side to help you. Not that it’s a bad thing. But as I reflect on my past, I can’t help but giving myself a pat on the back for how far I’ve come.

Since young, my mother was the one who would do almost everything for me. Even simple things like buying food at a foodcourt. Till this day, she sometimes still wants to do it and I’ll have to stop and remind her that I’m already 33 years old. And because I was so used to this treatment, my ex naturally continued this even after having grown up. He always insisted on buying my food despite (some) resistance for me, so I allowed myself to be treated like royalty way into my early 20s. Then we broke up. We ended the relationship when I was 21, so it’s been a good 12 years since I’ve been single. No one believes me when I tell them this but it is true. I mean, I dated that arsehole sporadically for almost nine months, had this ambiguous thing with X that dragged five years, but we were all never officially together. That means that I was still left to my own devices most days.And look how far I’ve come. These days, I have no problems dining alone, much less ordering my own meals. I don’t see the need to engage help say when I’m shopping for groceries and stuff. In fact I always fight my mother to carry her shopping bags because she’s old and her knees are spoiled lol. If I’m sick, I just drag my own sorry ass to the clinic, medicate, drink lots of water and rest till I get well. I no longer manja (kinda like behaving in a pampered, namby pamby manner) anyone as if having a fever was the end of the world.

And because I do everything myself, I’ve become so proud. To the extent that when I see girls behaving like weaklings, I actually roll my eyes and scoff at them lol. I feel like marching up to them at times and scream “Can you don’t?!” in their faces but who am I to do that. They are perfectly happy playing damsels in distress, and there are willing parties gallantly wanting to help them. To each their own.

But I was telling a friend the other day that because of this independence that I’ve honed over the decade and more, woe be to the man who next tries to come into my life. Also, I’m so out of touch I don’t know the “right” way to react to situations anymore. Thinking about all these already tires me out. So I have just one conclusion: It is still better for me to be a lone wolf. (Also, I suspect that I have a little bit of that alpha female thingy within me.)



I cannot claim to have the kindest heart because I don’t. Especially because my potty mouth says mean things from time to time. And I have impure thoughts about bad things happening to people who deserve them occasionally.

But what I can stake a claim to, is loyalty. Except to the corporate world because look where all that loyalty landed me in. But, wherever I am, I am loyal to the day I leave. To my family and friends, this takes top priority. Although this creates bias because I’ll definitely be on the side of my nearest and dearest first, at least I have their backs (until I learn the whole truth).

Friends who have sworn me to secrecy on erm secrets, will be comforted that I never rat or tell others. In fact, a very close friend recently found out that I’ve been harbouring another friend’s secret for more than five years and asked me why I didn’t tell her. Well.. Simply because the other friend made me promise not to tell. Easy as that.

So, it irks me soooooo much when I find out about people and their disloyalty. Technically it’s none of my business, but like I said, if you are mean to my people, you get a big fat X on your face. And the worse thing is, I’m potentially going to be embroiled in this even though I have zero parts of involvement. I might end up being colleagues with said traitor. I can’t reveal too much, but the gist of it is that she broke a promise and betrayed someone’s trust just to make use of, and leverage on him for her own benefit.

How can I work with such a person? And it gets better. I have actually been team mates with this person but her attitude has been a complete turnaround. I guess someone’s head got too big for her hat and perhaps I am of no use to her.

And this is where my terrible mind comes in. I hope and pray that she does not get the job. I don’t want to be colleagues with her again. Anymore. I don’t want to be part of her disloyalty even though I’m not directly involved in this. But ugh. Filthy animal. Be gone.


Perfect as punch.

Hello from KL (again)! Soon, this place will be my second home. Can you believe I’m all ready for bed at this time? The last time I ever attempted to go to bed this early was how about never.

Listening to Perfect and I’m getting all the warm fuzzy feels again. Perfect for continuing my story, this time about the good people in my life. If you remembered, my last post were about the people who kicked me while I was down, so this post will be the complete opposite. I have so many to be thankful for.

My family obviously. I don’t mean to take them for granted but isn’t that what we all expect from them hahaha. While they’re not the kind to openly express concern, I know they are, through their own little ways. Like watching me from the corner of their eyes when I’m having a hypo episode, and congratulating me when I return home after an appointment bearing good news (even though sometimes they don’t understand shit lol). Well, they also don’t have much of a choice don’t they? Because we all live together. But it really makes me happy inside when I sometimes read/watch a sad story/documentary about some lonely old woman who died at home and no one knew until her body started to rot and I will lament and remind them to come visit me more often in future. And they will always say, “don’t be mad, what about us?”. 😒

The next person, though some of you might have the urge to stone me, I cannot not mention. He is X. I’m not exaggerating or putting him on an unnecessary pedestal, but the amount of care and concern he has demonstrated is even beyond what my family has ever done. He’s also the first man who genuinely didn’t give a shit that I’m diabetic (without the sole purpose of just trying to get into my panties- and yes, I’ve met an A class asshole like that). He’s always checking on me if I’m unwell and offering me remedies to improve my ailments. When I had that cancer scare and my TB episode, he did so much research he could probably get another degree. He kept checking on me because all I was doing was crying lol. He specially cooked healthier meals just for me, and cooked my favourite foods just because. And not once had he tried to take advantage of me, though I wish he did hahahaha. He sends me pictures of his cat when I’m sad. He verbally bashes people who have done me wrong and is always on my side despite not knowing those people. He says crazy and silly things just to cheer me up when I’m in a pissy mood. There’s so so many other things he did for me which was why I fell so deeply for him. But I shall stop here because I have other people to thank.

My kindest, most generous friend HM. We started out as colleagues almost six years ago but she’s now one of my closest. Very motherly, really big hearted and dependable person. She was also there with me in my TB days, accompanying me for checkups even though I told her to stay away in case I infected her as well, and comforting me when I was so scared that the lump was cancerous that I burst into tears while waiting to do a blood test. Because she was a nurse and in the same industry, she shares my joy whenever I have good news as if those results were hers. She gifts me stuff and always refuses to take my money. Plus she has the most contagious laughter that will take away the funk from anyone. I love this woman.

And then there are the boys. We rarely talk about health related stuff because it seems like boys don’t talk about such things in general, especially when emotions are running high. But what I can count on them for, is being around for me whenever I feel like shit. One message and they gather. Ironically even though alcohol is not the best remedy for me, sometimes that is what I really need. I’ve known them for more than half my life now, so I think it’s safe to say that they’re here to stay.

Thinking of all these people makes me happy. And so so grateful that I’m not alone even though sometimes dramatically claim that I am. Thank you all of you, for loving me in your own ways. I might not be the smartest, wealthiest or healthiest person around, but I sure know how to thank my lucky stars when I see one (or in this case, many).


Cruella is her name, cruelty is her game.

Tired is now officially my middle name. But it’s a good and happy-ish kind of tired, so I won’t whine. So last week, I went for my diabetes appointment, and even though it’s not yet time to do my annual assessment, my HbA1c results came back really really good. It’s now 7.1%! Have not seen such low numbers in at least 12 years or possibly more. I’m now 0.1% away from achieving my target! Wooooo hoooooooooo!!!

And because I share almost every single detail of my life on social media, I dedicated a post just for this piece of good news, sharing how happy I was. And then one person liked my post. I was furious for a moment, like how dare he like my post! And in that moment, I was brought back to unhappy times 15 years ago.

In life, there are people who help you and then there are people who bring you down. Before I start thanking all the great and wonderful people in my life, I feel that I should also mention the bad people. In a way, maybe I should thank them for making me more resilient, but no, I refuse to, because these people don’t deserve any thanking.

So the person who liked my post was my ex, and he, of all people should not have the cheek to like my post. You’ll see why. I might have told this story before, but my memory of how much details were revealed are fuzzy, so do bear with me. (Or you can stop reading here lol.)

I started dating him when I was 17+, and we dated for about 3.5 years before we broke up when I was turning 21. Of course I was upfront about being diabetic right from the start, because having this is not something to be shameful of. He was ok with it, until he told his parents about me. The very first thing they asked him was, “Of all the girls in Singapore, why must you choose one with a disease?”. Love how they call it a disease as if it’s contagious. Let me tell you what is contagious- your naΓ―vetΓ© and stupidity πŸ™„πŸ™„πŸ™„. So anyway. I cried when he also stupidly reported this back to me. I mean, I was young and also new to having diabetes, and it’s also not like I asked for it. But anyhow, I forgot about their cruelty after a while.

Then about a year later, I was diagnosed with an overactive thyroid gland. This devastated me so much more than when I was diagnosed with diabetes. Because I knew that one of the side effects of taking this medication is weight gain. It basically slows down your metabolism to counter the increased heart rate (which could lead to a heart attack) or something like that. Oh how I cried. I behaved as if the world was ending. And end, it did. Imagine this. I was in the prime of my life, and I relished wearing all these mini skirts to school (because I could lol). And then overnight (okay not really, it was a couple of weeks), I ballooned. I kid you not. I was never a size zero but I went from an M to an XL. None of my clothes fit anymore. I basically lived in frumpy polo tees and knee-length denim skirts because I was just so so ashamed of myself.

Already stressed out with watching my body go out of shape was a bigger, underlying problem. His parents. He was then doing his national service, so we could only meet on weekends. And I used to spend Sundays at his house just to spend more time with each other. But because I knew how terribly conservative his parents were, I opted to stop going over after my massive weight gain. But after a few weeks, he begged me to go over again because he claimed he missed me so much. So I gave in, on condition that he explains to his parents my situation and not a word about it to me.

It was short-lived of course. His mother would never raise the question in front of him because she knew she would get told off. But this fucking conniving woman caught me off-guard one day while I was doing the dishes after dinner. She looked out to make sure her son wasn’t close enough before she pounced on me.

“The weight gain that you mentioned. Is it really what the doctor said, or did you make it up yourself to cover up this gain?”

That is hands down, the cruelest thing someone has ever said to my face. Immediately my eyes welled up, and I had to will myself not to cry in front of this witch. But the moment the dishes were done, I ran up to his room and bawled my eyes out. Even after so many years, as I’m typing this out, I’m tearing because these hurtful words cannot be erased from my mind no matter how hard I try to forget that.

Is it really necessary to be this cruel to a young girl? And you call yourself a mother. All I see is a fucking selfish person. If your son looks like Brad Pitt, I’d have nothing to say because yeah, maybe I’m not good enough, but seriously, look at all of yourselves in the mirror first. I think I’m too good for your son, bitch.

I never told my mother about this because I know that she’ll be sad. In the years after, when I told her how men ran away and did a great job of doing a David Copperfield after I told them about my illness, she actually said this to me. “I cannot blame them for running away, because like all mothers, I’d also wish for my children’s partners to be healthy if there was a choice”. She said this not meaning to hurt me, but to make me understand why some people behaved so. And I understand as well. As much as Singapore is a cosmopolitan city, you’d be surprised at how traditional many people are at the end of the day even with all this education and worldly exposure.

Of course these days, I don’t give a fuck about what others think about my diabetes anymore, but I cannot deny that that traumatic experience has left an indelible mark on me. Like I said at the beginning, the purpose of this post is to shame those ignorant folks but I’m so thankful they make up a teeny minority in my life and are gone now.

So wipe your tears (okay more like mine lol), and look forward to my next post where it will be full of nice and good people and stories! I’m not sure when exactly I’ll write it with this fatigue haha, but it will come. And if you ever read this, Benjamin, I hope you and your mother stew in shame forever and you all better pray damn hard that karma doesn’t come knocking on your door. Like I used to tell you, I can forgive but I will never forget.


The long and short of it.

My my my how has it been more than three weeks since my last post?! Have I been that busy? I came back from KL on Valentines Day, which was also the eve of the eve of the lunar new year, and then whoosh, it was the festivities and went straight in to work immediately after.

It was lucky I had no date waiting for me to come back on the 14th, because there was a flight delay and by the time I touched down, it was closer to supper time zzz. And in case you’re wondering, I did not bump into Mr. Slow Dance at all the 10 days I was there. I was mainly kept in the training room, and was only let out for pee and lunch breaks. And everyday was so intense with information overload that nothing else crossed my mind.

Except shopping lol. Because I stayed the weekend and I had nothing to do with no one for company (and the wonderful exchange rate), I did what I did best. Let’s just say I bought sooooo many things that I had to buy another bag just to cart everything home hurhurhur. To be fair, my luggage was already 16.5kg when I left. Bought mostly clothes and underwear, but I also made new pair of spectacles and brought one of these babies home!

Damn. Maybe I should have bought one of each colour after all…. They’re so soft and cuddly and will you look at that goofy face! I know, I know, I’m 33 years old going on three ok. πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚

And then came Chinese New Year (CNY). We had our reunion dinner and then the usual visiting of relatives and collecting red packets. I’m still single so even though I’m kinda old to still be receiving them, I will not defy tradition lol. It was a bit awkward to be getting them from cousins my age though. And I HAVE to mention this, because miraculously, I did not get a single question of “Where’s your boyfriend?”, or “When are you getting married?” questions. Thank goodness they have all given up on me hahaha.

And just like that, another year of this has passed. On my first official day back to work on field, I went to visit my old customers who I’ve covered for about two years. Save for a couple of weird ones, I received a very warm welcome back from doctors and their clinic staff and I felt so happy. The feeling is mutual guys, I’m so happy to be back.

But the reality of covering the whole island by myself is slowly starting to sink in. At my past job, I was also a one-woman show, but the difference is that I didn’t really have to visit the government hospitals because my product is not in the formulary and will not get in for various reasons, and also, Infectious Diseases specialists are only a handful. For now, I’m mainly only seeing the Endocrinologists, but omg there’s so many of them and so many hospitals on this tiny island! It’s been a week now, and I haven’t even cleared half the hospitals on my list.

To make matters worse, I’m pretty sure I’m allergic to work or something because while I was on my break, everything was fine and dandy. The day I started work, I felt like I was coming down with something, and true enough, I’m now sick. I have this stupid cough and a sore throat. I’m already midway through my course of medication, and by right I should be getting better but noooo, I’m actually deteriorating. I now sound like a transvestite (sorry to all trannies), and I think my voice might be gone soon. Sigh.

So anyways, this is a summary (which is actually still quite lengthy lol) of the going-ons in my life the past 24 days or so. I foresee work getting more hectic once I really start to get into the groove of things so you may see/hear less of me.

But, so far so good. Still keeping my fingers crossed. I love what I do, so please let me love it even more. Please.


Chips so hard to say goodbye.

Vices. We all have them. We all know there’s the seven deadly sins. In mandarin, there are namely four: εƒγ€ε–γ€ε«–γ€θ΅Œγ€‚Translated, they mean- Gluttony, Alcoholism, Debauchery, Gambling. And omg I’m guilty of two of the four! πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚

Of course I have my imperfections. In fact I can easily name you more, but bashing myself up is not on my agenda today. I just have to put it down in writing, you know, so that I will make the extra effort to achieve whatever I hope to. My first deadly sin is Gluttony. I don’t eat obscene amounts of food, in fact most days I only have two meals. But the one thing that I cannot resist. Potato chips. It’s so bad but it’s soooo good. At any one time, I can polish off an entire bag (the big ones) in one sitting. Usually happens on weekends if I choose to hibernate. I can eat two bags (or more) in two days.

Other than it being rumoured as being carcinogenic, we all also know that it’s high in fat, sodium and all the bad stuff. Putting these aside, I really shouldn’t be indulging like that because I’m diabetic and you know how much carbs each bag contains. It’s really a big weakness of mine. I can say no to desserts, resist temptation of any other food kind but those damn chips! It didn’t help that because I’ve had lots of free time lately, I’ve been scrolling through older photos and social media posts (yah I’m also narcissistic πŸ˜‚), and I can’t help but to notice how much weight I’ve piled on say over the last five years. The massive double chins, how my clothes don’t fit or are ill-fitting…. Frankly quite sobering.

And also because I’ve been doing training modules on Diabetes for my new job, I’ve been reminded how badly the odds are stacked against me if I don’t keep my glycemic levels at the optimal stage. Very very scary stuff. It can get mildly depressing. But ain’t nobody got time to be depressed. Whatever happened in 2017 I want to put it firmly behind me and not look back.

Therefore, I’ve decided to seriously cut back on my snacking. I haven’t made up my mind if I should do it cold turkey or gradual weaning off because what if the former is too extreme and I end up worse than before? This past weekend, I did not touch a single packet of chips. I think that’s a good start. This weekend should be safe because I’ll be working on Saturday and have to fly off on Sunday. The first real test will be the next weekend where I’ll be all alone in Malaysia. Before I had this resolve, my plan was to go supermarket shopping to buy a bottle of wine and some snacks and just home myself up in the hotel room. Might have to review the snacks bit now haha.

If you noticed any irony in this post, it would be about my second vice- my drinking. Of course I know that I shouldn’t be drinking in such copious amounts since I’m diabetic. Of course I know that drinking is detrimental to health. But hey. One step at a time ok. I don’t think I’m quite ready to give up alcohol as of yet. Baby steps ok, baby steps. πŸ˜›

p.s: Did anyone get my pun on the post’s title? Chips, It’s, no?



Every year, before Chinese New Year rolls around, I visit this lady whom I call my fengshui lady. She generally “reads” people via numerology, so no two people are alike. The Chinese have this thing which they refer to as your eight characters. It is basically a set of numbers made up from your date and time of birth (I hope I’m explaining it correctly). In the olden days, where marriages were arranged, the bride and groom were matched via their eight characters, if they’re good for each other or will they bring disaster to one another. Something along those lines. Oh, people don’t really reveal their eight characters to anybody because a curse can be brought onto another person just by knowing these numbers. Hogwash or not, I’m not too sure but sometimes it’s better to err on the safe side right?

So anyhow, I’ve been visiting this lady for many years, maybe almost a decade or so. I see her every year because it’s become something like a personal tradition, and I would just like to know how my year would pan out in general. Since I’ve started seeing her, she has correctly voiced or predicted incidents which have happened even without me telling her anything. I know. Naysayers are going to say it’s a self-fulfilling prophecy or something, but to each her own ok. I just take comfort in this somehow.

She was first recommended to us by another friend, and since then, I’ve brought other friends, who in turn have brought more people, so can’t say she’s a farce for sure. So anyway, since I’m enjoying my break, I thought I should go see her today before work commences. Before our session, I was telling a friend about my week in Malaysia (including Mr. Slow Dance) over lunch and then we moved on.

I went first because my friend was going to ask for her entire family. So after decoding my numbers, the first thing she said to me (I’ve translated everything that she said already) was: “This year, you’re going to have luck overseas with the opposite sex”. Immediately I looked to my friend and we both burst out laughing because I was just telling her about him a while ago! I mean, how specific is that?! Why not just meet someone, but someone from overseas??? I have to admit I was half impressed and half spooked.

And then she asked why I changed jobs (this I told her), because apparently 2017 was my year and a promotion was even in sight. I told her that crazy woman probably has stronger numbers than mine hahaha. And then she dropped another bomb. That my new workplace is going to be fraught with gossips and I will change jobs again.

Noooooo, I bleated. I cannot change anymore. If I change, I’m going to be labelled as a job hopper and the past five years of building a reputation would go down the drain. And then she said, “Ok you can counter this work thing by putting in effort in a relationship!”. Not sure if she was jesting or being serious, but again I bleated like a sheep. How can I make a choice like that? I want my work to go well because at the end of the day (or any relationship), I need to succeed because it’s for myself, my life!

Putting that aside, 2018 seems like a fairly promising year, with no major issues but some health ailments to look out for. I’m contented with that. I’m not naive to hope my life will have no bumps, but rather, I hope I’m able to rough it out and ride out those bumps.

Like I said at the beginning of the post, I’ll take in all the good things and fulfill whatever prophecies I want to achieve, and for the not-so-good things, I’ll just take them with a pinch of salt and hope for the best.

When I came home to tell my mother where I went, her first question was “So when will you be able to get married?”. Sigh. Mothers. And when I told her what the lady told me, she looked me dead in the eye and said “Please don’t marry off to Malaysia”. Hahahaha so adorable. She’s always asking us to get married and get out but deep in her heart I think she doesn’t want us to leave her lol. Mothers! πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚

Oh and guess what. I’m going to Malaysia again for 10 days next week 😭 for my official induction. I’ll even have to stay the weekend because it’s going to be such a hassle coming home just for the weekend. Noooooooooo… I don’t want to be 🎀🎼Allllll by myselffffffff…🎼 😭😭😭


Weird encounter of the work kind.

Just got back from our kick off meeting yesterday night and boy, am I pooped. Luckily for me, the new company is kind enough to allow me to continue taking a break before I start work proper in February.

There were a whirlwind of activities that took place over the four days, but I just wanted to mention this in particular. Oh. In case you’re wondering how my Aladdin-themed outfit turned out…The dinner itself was quite fun and I even won a prize at the lucky draw. Which must be a first for me because I never win at such things. Ever. The after-party though, was the bomb diggity. Free flow of beer, awesome music and a nice encounter.

So a couple of my colleagues from Malaysia were kind and friendly enough to make conversation and mingle with me (it was my unofficial first day of work so I did not know anyone other than my new manager) so I didn’t feel so left out. Other than my manager, the rest of the Singapore team retreated back to their rooms immediately after dinner. So there we were, all dancing to the amazing music and then, the band suddenly slowed down and played Perfect by Ed Sheeran. And told us to find a partner to dance with.

I immediately sat down and attempted to look busy by drinking my beer and fiddling with my phone because fuck this slow dance shit, I’ve never done it in my life.

Then this guy who I’d clinked glasses with a couple of times came over, went down on one knee and asked, “May I have a dance with you?”. I laughed and replied that I didn’t know how to, and he said he didn’t either. In my mind I was going fuck, no!, but he was still on his knee and I didn’t want to make him look bad, so I said ok and took his hand. We really did the whole slow dance shebang- clasping hands and other hand on each other. And because we were in that pose, we had no where to look but in each other’s eyes. Can you believe I actually started feeling shy??? Me. Shy! Totally unheard of. And halfway through the dance, he told me, “You look perfect tonight”. Ohmygoodlord.

Other than removing my fake beard, I still had my hair up in that ridiculous style together with the genie clothes. And he still said I looked perfect. Either he’s being nice or he has eye problems I reckon. But anyway that was about the most dramatic thing to happen that night. The next night, the Singapore team decided to gather in one room to have our dinner. Being new, the team was curious about me. Or rather my marital status. The moment they found out that I’m single, they all decided that they must get me off the shelf. God.

So they ran through the Malaysia “database” (the Singapore team is all-female), and guess whose name came up. Yep, Mr. Slow Dance. So they decided to check out his marital status. And as luck would have it, they bumped into him at breakfast the very next morning. After confirming that he’s single, they asked if he knew who Sabrina is. And he replied, “Of course I know Sabrina, she’s lovely!”. Or at least that’s what was repeated to me. I cannot help but blush. It’s so old fashioned yet have to admit that’s quite sweet. But really, who else uses lovely these days unless you’re a grandma commenting on a cup of tea?

And of course you can guess, they wouldn’t stop making fun of us the rest of our duration there that I feel a little awkward being around him.

Anyway, because of him, I came back and maybe played Perfect on loop at least 50 times. And really listened to the lyrics. So even though it was cheesy when he quoted that line, it’s an adorable kind of cheesy.

And you know what. I’ve become flavour of the month again. I told X about it (not the dance part though, and yes, we’ve started talking again after one incident), and wow, he keeps texting me. Nothing like another man coming into the picture to make you start being so hot again huh. πŸ™„πŸ™„πŸ™„

We didn’t get to say goodbye to each other because the Singapore team got held back for a discussion on our last day though I saw him hovering at the door for quite a while before he gave up. So the question i would like to ask, my friends, is, should I make the next move, wait for him to do it, or do nothing until we meet each other again in half a year? Tell me what you think.