Archive for April, 2013

Someone made me really upset today for about 20 minutes or so.

The Buddha then spent the next 20 minutes or so telling me about how I should call said person to diffuse the situation because I am a bigger person. I did not agree with most of the things he said.

Why can’t you just call her? said he.
Because it is not fair to me at all, said I.

And later:

Do you want to know why I can’t call her? I asked.
I don’t want to know. Just call her, he replied.
If you don’t want to know why I can’t call her, then don’t ask me, I retorted.
Okay, tell me why you can’t call her, said he.
Because I don’t want to be emotional about something so silly and I have already technically fixed the problem. Also because I didn’t do anything wrong. said I.
Whether you did anything wrong or not is irrelevant, he said. Even your conscience is irrelevant to this person’s ego. You should not get into trouble for something so silly.
My conscience is very relevant, thank you very much, said I. Why should I call a person whom I know is going to shout at me for no apparent reason just because she perceives that she is being slighted?
Because she is more senior than you, said he.
I am not that young either, I replied.

I then spent the next 20 minutes pondering on a cause of action.

Then I spent 20 minutes after that writing a letter to said person and faxing it out. Thereafter, I called The Buddha and told him:

I did not call her. I did better. I wrote a letter to apologise for all the things I did not do wrong. So she can have something in black and white to stick on her wall and make her feel better about life. And if after this, she is still upset with me and thinks that lodging a formal complaint about me to get me out of a job for a misunderstanding will make her sleep better at night then she is free to do so. I can’t stop her. I will not call her. This is all that I can bring myself to do.

He asked, Can I see the letter before you send it out?

I said, No. It has gone out. I am done dealing with this shit.

Then I hung up.

What a royal waste of 80 minutes of my life. If I am out of a job next week, know that it is because I refuse to yield to oppression.


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I’ve started doing yoga from a month back or so to try to regain some flexibility in my (healed) broken toes. This entails leaving work at 4:30pm for 2 days a week to make it to a 5:00pm class further down the river. The knock on effect is that I get home earlier for dinner, fresh from a shower, and get to hang out with the kids longer than on most nights.

While I entered the studio on Tuesday, the lady at the desk said Oh! Your class bundle is almost finished now!

Sitting on the mat in the 5 minutes before class started, it dawned upon me that by forcing me to leave work at 4:30pm two days a week, yoga has essentially forced me not just into strange extremes which I hitherto never thought I could achieve (like standing on my head!), but had forced me to make myself a priority for two days a week, to push away work and other extenuating circumstances just to have one hour to myself, sweating it out. It’s been really good not just physically, but mentally as well.

So, I say to myself (with a pat on the back): I am committed to you and will continue to make you a priority.


Someone at work said to me:

Leaving work one hour earlier is morally wrong.

To which I replied:

How is it more morally wrong than say coming to work at 10am or eating lunch till 3pm, both of which you do on a daily basis?

Besides, I regularly stay late at work all other times. So technically, the company owes me hours, not the other way round.

It is people like that who ensure that all this talk about flexi-hours and work-life balance will remain just talk. Said person also regularly complains to me about how she is not able to strike any balance in life or find time for herself after having a child.

And anyway, I can stand on my head? Can you? No? Then, go away because I am one up on you.


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While watching a Mission:Impossible rerun on TV tonight, Lion climbed onto my lap and said to me:

Mummy, you be the girl, okay? And I will be the boy.

So that you can save Mummy from the bad guys? I asked.

He nodded and snuggled on my lap.

The boy will seriously break someone’s heart one day.

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I’ve just been asked to participate in an online survey on pre-school education by my kids’ pre-school which contained the question “Do you have any children?”

After I clicked yes, they told me that they have too many participants of my profile and the survey ends for me there.

I feel mind-fucked.

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Have I ever told you what a great guy The Other Half is? A couple of weeks back, we arranged to meet after work at Kino to procure a travel guidebook for our upcoming family holiday. We were to meet at 6:30pm, which meant that I needed to get off work latest at 6:00pm, which I didn’t manage to until 6:20pm [story of my life]. When I finally got there, he was calmly seated in Coffee Club with a drink and a book, with no outbursts or recriminations at my extreme latecoming.

at a corner of gallery hotel...

at a corner of gallery hotel…

When I was leaving work, I told my girls I married the most patient man on earth!: The man who would just quietly take a nap on the couch on his birthday morning while waiting for the kids and I to finish pottering about the dining room mixing up a cake and waiting an hour for it to be done, then later help with getting the kids ready and drive out to a hole-in-the-wall ramen place to satisfy ramen cravings, then asking me on the drive home how come I stopped playing Liszt’s La Campanella, which I stopped playing years ago because he developed La Campanella fatigue hearing me murder it on the piano every day.

Thank you for everything, my love. Hope you enjoyed the cake!

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