And so out of sheer boredom, I went and joined the teeming mass of humanity at Zouk and Wine Bar at the behest of SM. Very bored. Very sheer.
Thursday’s ‘Do you even have a life’ query must’ve struck a raw nerve. I’ve been thinking about this a fair bit. But I think I shall remain in denial for a bit more. There is life outside of work. Heck, I don’t even write about work. Not that I hate work, but it’s just not prudent to talk about work.
At Wine Bar, me and SM had a jug of vodka red bull each, chewing the fat, and getting chatted up by Foreign Men. Not good at all. (Hey, buddy, what’s that you’re drinking? Is it good?) As bad as the time a few years ago when a Foreign Woman whispered in my ear, ‘Hey mate, you know, I’m gay, but I fantasize about having sex with gay men…. d’ya live ’round here?’
I still haven’t brought myself to call my cousin to convey my condolences. My rellies in Seremban are a weird bunch. Every year there’s a death in the family in strange circumstances. Uncle Eddie starved to death last year, and now Auntie Dunnowhatshername collapses in the toilet and no one notices for six hours or till someone else wants to use the loo or something.
Yes, I need a break. I need a holiday. But work’s scheduled till end of November, and I have compassionate leave slated for October, for when I travel to Hong Kong to hand over the ex to her new husband.
And when work finishes at the end of November, there’s reservist, which I normally would look forward to, but because it’s taking up two weeks of holiday time, I’m not.
I’ve already slated a trip to a tropical paradise with my one true love. She’s flying here to meet up before we up and leave again and laze away Christmas at a villa or something. Mmmmm nice.
Some days you just wanna cut something up bad