Arise, it is the Sabbath!
The larks paddle in their bird baths,
Off I go to have my bath!
Onward ho..soon I walk the Monday path,
To face EL’s unreasonable wrath!
I don’t wish to walk this path,
But calculate I did, it’s all math!
Stuck I must be on this path,
Sadly I know how quickly ends my Sabbath.
I pray not to face EL’s wrath.
Rise and shine….it is Sunday folks and soon Monday will be upon me and aarrgh it is back to my torturous job!
I often wondered about silly jokes and these are brilliantly silly!
My First Dream
I dreamt of a great job, terrific boss and of course, a great pay cheque that came with it.
In reality, the best I have done is a good job, decent boss and a good pay cheque.
Today, I am at a lousy job, horrible boss and an acceptable pay cheque.
My Second Dream
The perfect beau that I will be married to and like Hans Christian Andersen’s fairy tale endings, live happily ever after.
I dated a fair bit. To me love is like a smorgasbord of delightful treats.
Each date came and went with the longest being Mr EX.
If he was successful, he was never around.
If he was a docile creature, I made him cower in fear. No equality of sexes, I felt.
If he was an intellect, I became his muse.
If he was a sufferer of inferior complex, I became a victim of having too many friends.
Maybe I like the chase…that is, the stage of being wooed. I am happiest at this stage…love at its apex, never waning.
Today, I am a singleton. Never married. Almost married twice, respectively, to a succesful architect and to a businessman.
Businessman is around but I broke Architect’s heart that saw him moving lot stock and barrel to China.Today, Architect is still single and living the high life.
Architect wooed me in style. He was outlandish and spent $ like chop change. Only Hugo Boss adorned him and other designer togs.
I am a mismatch. I am Bohemian. Spartan or lazy dressing with creature comfort as top priority.
I don’t have a chance of re-evaluating this potential relationship with him.
My Third Dream
I wanted to study in Switzerland and be one of the world’s top chef.
I would have an equivalent ascerbic tongue like my top chef idol, Gordon Ramsay.
But Simon Cowell and him? I think both will be on par you think for constructive criticism?
There is a difference to dreaming to be a chef and realising it.
I caved and went on the traditional college route.
Today, at best I boil water best with the electric jug kettle and make a mean sandwich😉
My Fourth Dream
Live life enjoying my favorite toons like Scooby Doo, Charlie Brown, Garfield, Smurfs and Disney characters.
This dream may be cut short as advanced digital technology have innovative interactive games that is filled with grisly gore.
My fourth dream may be extinguished like a candle in the wind soon.
My Fifth Dream
I miss my late pet dog, Goldlin Gretchen. A thoroughbred from a long line of champion dobermanns, Gretchen entered my life as a puppy with straggly long but weak legs.
She would slip and slide as she walked and mum would tut tut and feed her with Vitamin B6 and 12.
Gretchen grew up strong. Fiercely protective of the family but lovingly gentle to us.
Gretchen would have long talks with me after school and as years go by, then after work.
Ok I joke, it was a one way communique. But I swear she would cock her head one side and look at me with those lovely eyes.
My dream for her to live with me forever was a mere fallacy. She passed at age 13 years after pining for my return from Hong Kong where I used to work.
On touch down, and after patting her on the head and with a kiss to her forehead, she went to heaven that night. I swore, I would never keep another pet as the heartbreak of her loss to me is stil painful.
Dreams are dreams….like Einstein’s great advice….keep on sleeping and that is where, chances are that I will see Gretchen and have a conversation with Architect.
Meanwhile I continue with my life’s journey and memoirs to boot or bore you with!😉
Afterall, I ain’t no gazillionaire, drop dead gorgeous babe on covers of Vogue or anybody famous…ha ha!
Thank you for your reading of this post and giving me my five minutes of fame😊 on wordpress…where dreams become a reality of sorts😃😃
Above: Typical rendition of “Show Off”
Below: Ghost Jail exists…..must be Halloween😉
Fried Spiders anyone?
TGIF….bring out the junk food, slouch on the couch and binge! 😂😂
Happy weekend folks😉
Here’s another sneak peak at my life thus far….
My “affairs” with doctors started when I started my ascension on the corporate ladder.
I had little time shooting the breeze with my pals and one day, I felt so guilty for neglecting them that when I was asked to catchup with one, I made a concerted effort to do so.
On that fateful day (sounds like a tragedy ha ha!), the rains fell heavily.
It was blinding rain that fell in torrential buckets as if the skies let loose all the water it held.
I winced. Of all days, why today?
I hate being late and I needed to travel by car to the central part of Singapore. I was in the west of Singapore. My appointment was for dinner. Sigh nightfall made it worst for visibility.
Off I went in my itty bitty car and braved the rain as I drove through the only route I knew.
I never knew what hit me! Except I landed in a 7 car pile up on the expressway.
All I remember was getting out of the car left like a pulverized tin can.
My immediate response was to borrow a cell phone to call my poor pal who was waiting at the restaurant. I needed my pal to know that I would not be able to meet for dinner as planned.
Thus began my “affairs” with doctors.
Practically every part of my body decided to protest.
I could not breathe. I met my chest intensivist doctor.
I still could not breathe and started to cough. I met my otolarynologist.
I still could not breathe and continued to cough non stop. I met my gastroenterologist.
I could not walk straight. I met 2 orthopaedic surgeons.
I could not write properly. I met my hand surgeon.
I still could not walk straight and my upper limbs became numb. I met 2 neurosurgeons and a neurologist.
I kept getting stomach pains. I met my general surgeon.
I could not raise my arm. I met my sports & medicine surgeon. I tore my rotator calf.
10 major surgeries ensued. By major, it means that I went under general anaethesia for minimum of 4 hours each time and maximum of 11 hours for marathon surgeries.
I feel like humpty dumpty but thankfully all the kingsmen …oh ok…surgeons put me back together again!
Sewing me up was easy….my agony starts after each surgery….rehab and I met my physiotherapist.
Meanwhile my eyes decided to protest. I met my opthalmic surgeon.
Am I glad to be alive? I should be.
My achievements at work got me going as I continued to climb Mt Work.
Mt Work kept me motivated and focused to distract me from pain or surgery fears.
I never felt the fear as I had no time.
Meetings were held around my hospital bed.
Faxes poured through the ward’s fax machine.
My surgeons threatened to confiscate my laptop, close off my complimentary usage of the fax machine and behave like a sick injured bird.
I did not like to be fussed.
But my dear friends did not abandon me as they thronged my hospital ward and the corridor to my room felt as if I was the deceased as floral arrangements adorned the walkway to my ward.
I had a good laugh.
I knew then that I was alive.
If I had not diverted my attention to work, I might have sunk into depression I think.
Work and social endeavours to help the less fortunate got me going.
It got me to wake up, climb out of hospital bed and struggle through rehab but with a razor sharp brain.
Morale of my story is…..when I was down and out, I had no time to whine.
Whining would not have helped really.
I prayed but my prayers went unheard as each year, a new doctor I would meet. So this was where I parted ways with God.
In adversity comes courage or maybe, I just refuse to die just yet😉 or people may say..God was making sure you stayed alive!
I beg to differ…why make me suffer to keep me alive then?
I am not wiser ha ha!