Those three words...
Yesterday I wrote this great long piece and guess what happened? As long as I was about to post it, the connection went kaput. I was mad. Fuming. The message? Cannot find server. Those three words really get the best of me. I tried logging on to other sites. And guess what? Again those three words stared back at me. Challenging me. Mocking me. Ugh….
It was bowling night for our dept yesterday. This was fun. It seems that my new dept people always go for social outings or out of the office activities. In my last dept, there was no such thing. Bowling. Yes! Even though yours truly doesn’t bowl, hubby joined the team and he even got a prize for the best individual player. All right!
We were supposed to be there by 8pm, but of course everyone started coming by 8.30pm. What is it with Malaysians and being 5 to 10 to sometimes half an hour late at meetings, events, and such? The excuse? Malaysian time mah…. Wha?!? You mean to say we have our very own time zone here in Malaysia where things move slower than everywhere else in the world? Whoa…. who’d have thought….
Why do people like being late? I hate being late.
There’s no such thing as being fashionably late. If you’re late then you’re late. Shoddily late.
A method in the madness
All my watches go 10-minutes faster, so that I’m never late. Why can’t other people exercise some self-discipline and do the same? Just find some way to be early. Don’t have to follow my way… coz…. well, I’m a weirdo. The clock in my old car used to be 13 minutes late. Why 13? Well, it was just a coincidence, but it stuck and I got used to it. When my bro borrowed my car, he called me a weirdo coz my clock was haywire. But I liked it that way as it keeps me mentally doing calculations in my head. Keeps me alert and on my toes.
Now it’s Saturday. Tonight we’re gonna have another sleepover at mama and papa’s. And we’re going for dinner coz it’s gonna be anick’s birthday third of May. And ehm, yours truly’s on the 12th. Plus it’s papa and mama’s wedding anniversary.
Going back to my birthday… I’m gonna be 29. 29!!! You hear me?!? That means I’m gonna be 30 next year. Three decades. Man, lots of things can happen in 3 decades. In another 3 decades, I’ll be 60. Old me. Okay I’m getting ahead of myself here. Better go do some housekeeping….