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Little light in the dark.
Things/people that made me happy/happier today:
1. Roger Federer - watched the super HD version of the SF against Tsonga. Well, I made it through the first set before I gave in to fatigue but that took my mind off things.
2. Chuck - third season, more specifically. Watched two episodes in a row. Fucking hilarious.
3. Mag - lunch with Mag was my dose of sanity for the day. Seeing her is always good, for she is full of shit and she gets me more than most people. I love her.
4. Tris - his emails keep me going at work. I pretty much have limited communication with the outside world apart from email because the reception is atrocious, and seeing a new email from him makes my day less dreary. Replying is fun too, and helps to pass the time, so that's always good.
5. Ruishan - 15 minute breakfast. Sadly, not long enough. I miss her. At least there's SameTime. Yay.
On to the things that I'm not happy about.
First on the list? I'm fucking pissed that my parents sold the other condo. It probably makes financial sense, but I've grown attached to that place and I was looking forward to the convenience of living just outside town. It was the perfect location and what did they decide to do? They decided to sell it. And therefore, I am still stuck in fucking ulu piang Hillview. What the fuck.
The reception in the new building is also ridiculously bad. The clinic called me to arrange for an appointment with the specialist re. the stomach but the person couldn't hear me and I had to take the fucking slow lift all the way downstairs to call. I complained to my roommates and they were all, "At least your phone rings. Ours don't even ring." Seriously. Seriously? I hate the new building.
I'm just tired of everything in general. Everything. Every single fucking thing. I'm tired of myself; tired of not having a life; tired of being unable to see my boyfriend; tired of going to work; tired of fulfilling obligations to people other than myself; and tired of being tired. I feel disillusioned, nonchalant, detached, disinterested.
I honestly don't know why I'm in such a bad mood, but it seems like ever since the office move, work has got worse. The new building doesn't gel with me and I hate not having Olivia sit behind me. Such things matter to me - a lot. I need things like that to look forward to, to make work more bearable. And yet, she's upstairs. And Ruishan was never anywhere close to me.
I think, too, I'm tired of being dependent on a guy. Things that shouldn't matter, matter - small things, ultimately insignificant, but they exacerbate my bad mood and do nothing to make me feel better. Not calling back after missing my call, and giving me a one-sentence reply to a two-page SMS. I hate it when people don't reply to the whole of my message and just one part, 'cause it makes me think, Why the fuck did I spend all that effort typing out all that shit just to have it all ignored? In the first place SMSing per se is a chore; in the second place my phone is getting wonky and it's literally painful to SMS.
Not calling at all, basically, my bad mood, you have your thing to deal with, but I'm still your girlfriend. Maybe I'm being selfish again (colour me unsurprised) but I'm still your girlfriend. You call other people back but not me? You see my missed call but decide not to call back? What, as if I dial your number for fun, and as if I do that all the time, or even half the time. When you didn't pick up this afternoon I didn't expect you to call me back 'cause I knew you wouldn't; and when I told you it bothered me just now you avoided the issue. The issue wasn't the text messages; the issue was the missed call. Saying that you answered my message immediately said nothing about why you didn't call me back. I don't call you for no reason. And when I call you nowadays I don't even expect you to pick up, because you hardly ever do. Even if you're not at your phone all the time, at least call back. At least call me back.
Is it disappointing? Sure it is. I understand you're being unable to see me. It makes me sad, but I understand. But I don't understand your not calling me back. At the very least it's basic courtesy. Now I'm just feeling neglected, like I'm an after-thought.
I honestly don't know how this is sustainable because we barely have time for each other. Every single fucking day after work I'm so tired that I don't want to do anything, that all I want to do is go home and lie on the couch and do nothing. I'm tired from the lack of sleep the whole week, tired from working, tired of working, tired of going to work five days a week and not knowing where my time has gone to. And I don't even get a phone call. Sometimes texting really, REALLY doesn't cut it, because I called you for a reason. I called you because I wanted to hear your voice, because I don't even SEE you.
Honestly, I hate this. And it worries me that you didn't (don't? I don't know; we haven't exactly talked) think it's a problem. I don't know why.
And I wasn't moody about this. I don't know what I was moody about. The persisting and persistent stupid stomach problem, maybe - first thing in the morning I had stomach ache for no reason, none that was discernible to me. And the appointment with the specialist - not too interested in going. Not too keen on taking a day off, because I don't bloody want to make up for it (why the HELL should I have to when I spent two Sundays and one Saturday back at the office for more than 8 hours?). But tennis is more important, and therefore I rejected the Saturday morning appointment. Was I being stupid? Fuck, no. Tennis keeps me sane. I can't do without it. Sometimes when I'm bored it's all I think about. And this 16th Grand Slam thing is actually and legitimately keeping me from breaking apart.
I'm tired of the stomach problem. Simultaneously I don't think now is a good time for this. I don't know how many sessions I'd need, and I sure as hell do not want to prolong pupillage. But the medicine isn't helping at all, and I don't know what is going on, and it kills me that I can't drink coffee. A little empathy would be nice on that count, too.
And the two extra kilos. Oh, don't even get me started. I'm sad to say this but when I feel like my life is spiralling out of my control, the first thing I seek to control is my weight. So I guess I'm gonna be hugely successful in losing weight.
I don't care about anything, about anyone, and I can't believe my parents sold the fucking condo. I can't fucking believe it. When I said it was a waste of money to spend a million dollars on a condo, I didn't mean ours (we didn't spend a million; we spent 900K. At a fucking huge discount. And they just fucking sold it).
But then again, I guess it doesn't matter. If I were still in this country in five years' time, I'd have no choice but to deem my life an utter failure.
I'm very tired. I'm going to bed. I can't wait for the next tournament - Dubai towards the end of the month. Roger better not pull out of it or I'd be very upset with him. 44
Just read this article. Made me happy for a bit. Yay!
He's GodFed. That is all.