chinua achebe is so right

This has become a bitching post of late.

(Some will concur.)

Take one bloody urgent leave and you return to your Lotus emails like a splashing period in your face and follow-up work a crazy avalanche. Panicked whole morning chasing departments and peeps. Rushed internal audit session that's a bloody drag of time. Snapped at colleague for concern at wrong timing and prissy mumblings behind the cubicles float back in your face. And they think you don't know.

Super fucked week. Super sleep deficient. Super bummed January.

Super suckie 06. And supposed to be 1 of my lucky numbers.

Fuck...

I am SOOOOOOOOO fucking NOT looking forward to CNY this year.

What with the "Can we go buy New Year groceries on Sunday ALREADY? You haven't changed the sofa set YET. Your room is a total MESS." on top of the "Are you coming back for work this Sat? Yeah, think I might. That's twice in a row already. Why? You want my portfolio? Please take." which has to be shelved for "So can we meet early noon today cos he can't make it tomorrow so we buy those dearly-departed stuff at your place and troop down to his place and Do the Deed." while "I've REALLY GOT to start reading that darn book and PLAN that 4 page cover story AND send out the Q&A for the top wigs or they'd be outstation and I'd get in BIG trouble for missing the fucking DEADLINE." clouds the cramped and crushed cranium upstairs.

Did I also fail to mention "absofuckingly dissed drained dispirited disoriented".

*sigh*

That's the good part.

The bad part is - you start spending.

Your innate long dormant retail-therapy-manic-consumerist-addict button self-activates with frenzied glee. And he's on a roll.

Grabbed CDs like gleeful klepto (more than I should, considering Gene my Saint has been spoiling me with tonnes), dined like chic hippo and shopped like bighair tai tai.

Can you hear it? The bank account is dripping blood. Strange how stress brings out things in you. (No, you're just going through "rejuvenation surfacing", you kid yourself.)

Like wondering in boutiques you don't give half a hoot for and examining things and thinking smiley thoughts: "Hmmm... That porcelain tea set will look CLASSY in the cabinet..." "Hmmm... I am SOOO getting that shirt and long sleeve..." "Hmmm... Would it kill me to buy that bag after eyeing it for eons? NOT."

Wondering in wine bars and before you know it you peer, pirouette and point: "I'll have 2 bottles of vintage Veuve Clicquot and don't bag it in some crummy carrier like the last time or I'll slap you you arrogant-bony-ass-for-a-face bitch so move it lady please with vinegar on top."

Wondering in restaurants during your working lunch hours and taking half the day munching the food.

Wondering in dessert parlours and lapping up glaces and sizzling sodas and stretching your nights while dangling your health on a string.

In short, you become the brainless bozo you despise from your earlier working ethics.

*double cringe*

You're in a conundrum. A pothole. There's no fixing in sight. You don't want to turn back and can't look around.

Things fall around you and nothing holds the centre. What can you do or say?

*pathetic eyebrows*

"Gene, can we meet at Raoul in Paragon tomorrow evening...?"

*perky grin*