This is going to be a rant so if you are going to be even in the least offended or affected by my negativity, I'd advise you to click the red square in the top red corner, and the red circle for mac users.
I really don't get how bold some people can be. Alright, I get it that your modules are assignment-heavy and this Friday is the deadline for your individual submissions. But as a member of a group project, don't you have the basic duty to put some effort into the group assignment too? Deadlines are deadlines. So the stipulated deadlines by the school are to be adhered to, but the deadlines as set by the group are not? I acknowledge that some of you do put something on google docs past the deadline, but the plain bare fact is that you are still late. Prioritizing individual assignments over group assignments by thinking your group members will do up the rest of the work is absolutely selfish. And I understand that some of you are working. But that does not give you a reason to be absent from group meetings. If you even had the basic courtesy, I would at least see you online on google docs, because I was on there from the time I woke up till 6pm. And the deadline is Sunday, but you have the cheek to say that you'll be working all the way till then so you won't be able to commit. Your working hours being inflexible is not our fault and none of our business. And just because my English is better means I get to do proofreading for every freaking project report? What logic is that? And those people that think proofreading is easy have obviously never done any in their entire lives. You think it's just reading through and correcting your grammar and vocabulary? Then why not you do that in the first place, rather than letting the one that is proofreading try and figure out your thoughts and re-editing your entire paragraph so that it makes freaking sense? Why is it that some people do not even have the basic sense to read through their work before posting it up on the docs? Some sentences absolutely make no sense, so I am supposed to read your mind and get something out? Am I getting extra marks for doing this? So why is it that everyone simply takes things for granted and assumes that someone will do up the report for submission, while they are free to do their own things? Is my time worth any less than yours? Why is it my responsibility to ensure everything flows and makes sense? It's because of times like these that makes me skeptical of team assignments, because some people simply expect others to carry them across the finish line. The next time anybody asks, my grade for English is F9.
Friday, July 29, 2016
Sunday, June 19, 2016
If you have been following me on social media, you will know that Sab and I have gotten a Sapphire hamster by the name of Curious! I have been annoying my parents for ages for a pet and you can imagine how jubilant I was when they finally said okay! I broke the news to Sab and she was ecstatic! I couldn't waste even a day and on Saturday, Sab and I woke up at 9am (and you know what lazy pigs we are) headed straight to the Pet Lovers Centre at White Sands to try our luck. On the way there, our hearts almost popped out of our chests because WE WERE SO EXCITED! When we came out empty-handed, we quickly boarded the MRT to try the bigger outlet at Eastpoint. Imagine how exhilarated we were when we almost squealed like a pair of guinea pigs when we set our eyes upon the selection of hamsters there. There was a Pearl White who looked so clumsy and stole both of our hearts as he struggled to drink from the waterbottle, but we were both startled when he started squeaking like crazy when the assistant picked him up. Sab and I did not want such an active squeaker or biter, so we moved on.
When we saw Curious, she literally was the epitome of a furball of cuteness. When we approached the cage, she was holding a piece of corn in her hand and gnawing at it here and there, but looked at us when we came close. Even when the assistant picked her up, she was as calm as can be. And when she was set down in the container for us to have a better look at her, I set my hand in front of her and she placed her two front paws on my palm and looked straight into my eyes. My heart literally melted in a way that no one else except Sab has been able to cause. WE WERE SO DAMN EXCITED and started picking out items such as the bedding, chew toys, bottle, wheel, bath sand, food etc.
We quickly cabbed home and washed the cage with nervous expectation, not wanting her to spend a minute longer in that small unfriendly cardboard box we brought her in. And when everything was washed, sanitised and set up, we set little Curious into her new home and imagine our immense happiness when she started becoming familiar with her house, burrowing into bedding and squeezing behind the wheel. We were so afraid she was gonna be dehydrated because we didn't see her drinking from the bottle but we later googled it and realised that hamsters are actually desert dwellers and survive on a couple droplets of water per day.
When we saw Curious, she literally was the epitome of a furball of cuteness. When we approached the cage, she was holding a piece of corn in her hand and gnawing at it here and there, but looked at us when we came close. Even when the assistant picked her up, she was as calm as can be. And when she was set down in the container for us to have a better look at her, I set my hand in front of her and she placed her two front paws on my palm and looked straight into my eyes. My heart literally melted in a way that no one else except Sab has been able to cause. WE WERE SO DAMN EXCITED and started picking out items such as the bedding, chew toys, bottle, wheel, bath sand, food etc.
We quickly cabbed home and washed the cage with nervous expectation, not wanting her to spend a minute longer in that small unfriendly cardboard box we brought her in. And when everything was washed, sanitised and set up, we set little Curious into her new home and imagine our immense happiness when she started becoming familiar with her house, burrowing into bedding and squeezing behind the wheel. We were so afraid she was gonna be dehydrated because we didn't see her drinking from the bottle but we later googled it and realised that hamsters are actually desert dwellers and survive on a couple droplets of water per day.
Sunday, May 29, 2016
Tuesday, May 24, 2016
Two awesome bright spots in one day!
After two rounds of interviews, my scholarship application has been successful! Although the amount is considered basic, at least I can cover some of the costs of my university tuition fees! Yay!
And one of the results for this second trimester is out! The HD for CRGB means that my current GPA is 6.5 out of 7! Hopefully the rest of my modules will not pull that grade down too much :/
After two rounds of interviews, my scholarship application has been successful! Although the amount is considered basic, at least I can cover some of the costs of my university tuition fees! Yay!
And one of the results for this second trimester is out! The HD for CRGB means that my current GPA is 6.5 out of 7! Hopefully the rest of my modules will not pull that grade down too much :/
Wednesday, May 18, 2016
Still not in the mood to sleep so I shall attempt to update this space.
Went to Adventure Cove with my lovely girlfriend today to spend our 19th month-sary. So proud of her for trying to conquer her fear of water and even venturing into the deeper ends of the wave pool. Although she didn't enter the Rainbow Reef for snorkelling, I am already super happy that she even agreed to spend the day at Ac with me. We had dinner at The King Louis Grill and Bar and we ordered a platter to satisfy my carnivorous mood. And gosh, there was a hell load of potatoes so we packed it all home. Her home to be exact. Sorry honey, there goes your breakfast lunch and dinner for tomorrow!
I really can't believe that it has already been 19 months? A whole 19 months?! I can't believe I actually endured 4.5 months of being apart from this gem of a girl, because I doubt we can spend more than even one week apart now. All the fancy dates and dinners can't compare to our favourite pastime of simply staring at the ceiling and thinking of absolutely nothing. Or our Friends marathon in bed. Or whipping up dinner for ourselves. Chill day is best, my lads.
School has been a rollercoaster. First trimester was pretty lenient and when you lower your guard for a moment, this second trimester smashes into your face like a splash of reality. Four content-heavy modules has really taken its toll on me. Having a lecturer who cannot teach for nuts and yet overly stingy on marks is a total cold blanket on your efforts. I know the grass is always greener on the other side, but I really cannot wait to start working and start paying off my study debts and shore up my savings again. It's definitely not a good feeling seeing your funds from years of diligent savings get eaten away every 3 months, six thousand a time.
And fingers crossed for the scholarship!
Went to Adventure Cove with my lovely girlfriend today to spend our 19th month-sary. So proud of her for trying to conquer her fear of water and even venturing into the deeper ends of the wave pool. Although she didn't enter the Rainbow Reef for snorkelling, I am already super happy that she even agreed to spend the day at Ac with me. We had dinner at The King Louis Grill and Bar and we ordered a platter to satisfy my carnivorous mood. And gosh, there was a hell load of potatoes so we packed it all home. Her home to be exact. Sorry honey, there goes your breakfast lunch and dinner for tomorrow!
I really can't believe that it has already been 19 months? A whole 19 months?! I can't believe I actually endured 4.5 months of being apart from this gem of a girl, because I doubt we can spend more than even one week apart now. All the fancy dates and dinners can't compare to our favourite pastime of simply staring at the ceiling and thinking of absolutely nothing. Or our Friends marathon in bed. Or whipping up dinner for ourselves. Chill day is best, my lads.
School has been a rollercoaster. First trimester was pretty lenient and when you lower your guard for a moment, this second trimester smashes into your face like a splash of reality. Four content-heavy modules has really taken its toll on me. Having a lecturer who cannot teach for nuts and yet overly stingy on marks is a total cold blanket on your efforts. I know the grass is always greener on the other side, but I really cannot wait to start working and start paying off my study debts and shore up my savings again. It's definitely not a good feeling seeing your funds from years of diligent savings get eaten away every 3 months, six thousand a time.
And fingers crossed for the scholarship!
Friday, February 5, 2016
*Walking around Pet Safari at Simei*
Seeing my parents in a good mood, I decided to try my luck and asked them whether I could adopt a dog from SPCA and my mother (of all people, considering how strict she is towards pets) actually said: "Go choose lor." Imagine 10,000 light bulbs beaming at full potential. That was exactly how bright my mood was. My dad even asked when I wanted to go down and choose. I thought my prayers and hopes were finally going to be answered. Was I finally (after more than a decade of wanting a pet dog) going to have a canine best friend at long last?
Imagine the weight of disappointment slamming me right smack in the face when they said 30 minutes later: "Huh you seriously still thinking about it ah? Aiya ah kia, our household expenses already so high, cannot afford to feed, maintain, take care of dog la. Cannot even take care of yourself, want to take care of dog?". And they went on to counsel me on how impractical it was for us to have to take care of a dog.
Scumbag parents bursting my bubbles since 1992.
But I don't blame them. I cannot expect them to take care of it when it was my choice to adopt in the first place. So nah, I shall KIV this thought till next time.
Friday, January 15, 2016
"Hospitalised" (10 Jan to 14 Jan 2016)
I did not inform anyone regarding the details of my hospitalisation, or the nature of my sickness, so to anyone reading this, please do not feel disappointed that I did not confide in you. I didn't mean it that way. I really just did not want anyone to worry about me.
Last Friday, I woke up in the late afternoon, breathless. My pulsating chest and rapid heart rate were the initial warning signs. Ignoring these signals, I thought and silently prayed that it would vanish with time. How wrong could I be. These symptoms carried on throughout the weekend and hit me hardest on Sunday. While having a late breakfast, I felt myself gradually gasping for air and my heart was pumping so violently and intermittently that I thought I could black out. Fearing the worst, I typed out my intention to visit the doctor immediately on Sab's phone. She wolfed down her food and immediately changed and we headed down to the clinic. Fortunately, the clinic was relatively empty and I was able to see the physician within minutes. After stating my symptoms, the doctor proceeded to perform an Electrocardiogram (ECG) and duly referred me to the Accident & Emergency Department (A&E) at CGH.
Upon reaching the waiting area at CGH, I was given a fast-track for another ECG to be performed and within minutes, I was wheeled into the bustling emergency medical area. After an ultrasound and a chest x-ray, I was pierced with a needle for an IV drip and from that moment onwards, I knew that I will need to be warded at the hospital. Swallowing approximately ten pills of various colours, I feared for the worst. The next few hours were a blur, as I was pushed into the Intensive Care Area and back out, before I was finally warded at the Cardiology Ward. It was confirmed - I was diagnosed with Hyperthyroidism. The thyroid gland that controls metabolism levels, heart rate, perspiration, and a whole barrage of other functions, was working overtime and producing excess levels of hormones.
I had to be attached to a telemetry device where my heart rate was electronically wired to the nurses' laptop. There was one time just two days ago that I emerged from the bed when the nurses wanted to change my bedsheet. Reprising my role as the kanchiong spider that I normally am, I totally forgot about my current condition and got up immediately. Beads of perspiration started forming on my temples and almost simultaneously, my heart rate shot up to 200 beats per minute. My vision almost blacked out completely and I had to grasp on to the bedside drawer for support. The worst case scenarios I had previously entertained in my mind prior to this flashed by me in an instant. I cannot remember the last time I felt so despondent at the weakness of my own body. At that moment, nurses started to rush in, pegging me to the ECG machine and tying to calm me down. The thing is, I wasn't even agitated or worked up. I felt normal.
I am on three different types of medication. One is to control the hyperactive production of the thyroid hormone, one is to control the heart rate, and the last one has a blood thinning effect to prevent blood clots, due to the irregularity and palpitations of my heart beats. In the short-term, I am probably on medication until my condition gets better. After a few months of monitoring, I may be advised to undergo radioactive iodine therapy, which will effectively halt the hormone-producing ability of the thyroid. Which also means I will be on counter-reacting medication to replace the hormones in my body for the rest of my life. But I am not thinking so much for now. I just need to get better.
Due to the excruciating blood thinning injections I received on my stomach once in the morning and once at night, my skin has become so thin that simple scratches like these leave scars and I really do not know when these will heal.
The first time I cried was at the clinic. Leaving the doctor's office, tears were already rolling down Sab's face. She looked so worried and probably taken aback at the gravity of the situation, the fact that I had to be referred to the A&E department.
The second time we both cried was at the A&E department at CGH. I had been hoisted on the bed and doctors were fussing all over me. When She was finally able to enter to visit, she looked terribly worried and scared as I held her gentle hands. Both of us did not know what to think, or what to do. I really cannot bear to see her cry.
The third time I cried was in the ward. The specialist doctor was explaining the treatment methods and the nature of the sickness. I cried because I thought I was stronger than this. I thought I had trained hard enough so as not to be inflicted with sicknesses easily. I cried because now, I am unable to fulfill my initial promise to protect Sab, and make sure she is well taken care of. Ironically, it is her that has to take care of me now. I cried because I did not want my family to bear the burden of my medical bills. I cried because I did not want to depend on medication for the rest of my life. I cried because I felt sorry towards everyone who cared for me, that they would have to expend the extra effort to look out for me from now on. This was one of the few times I genuinely felt pure sadness. The tears never stopped falling.
The fourth time I cried was when I was in bed, all alone in the middle of the night. Mum had bought me an amulet to bless me, as those born in the year of the Monkey would offend some deities this year. However, being the extremely muddle-headed person that I am, I left it in the previous hospital gown that I discarded after I showered. At 12 midnight, I jolted awake when I suddenly remembered about the amulet. Ignoring my gradually increasing heart rate, I looked absolutely everywhere. The clothing bin, the shower room, the bathroom, under my pillow, everywhere. And as it slowly dawned to me that I am never finding it again, my eyes turned watery again. It was a familiar sight, me looking for something that I am never getting back ever again. Lamenting the loss of a precious item because I stupidly neglected its existence. And as I slowly trudged to the nurses' station for the first time, I was still composed. By the second time I went over to the nurses' station to plead with them to assist me to find my lost item, all I felt was desperation. I didn't care that the nurses saw me in this sorry state, a grown teenage male crying in front of similar-aged girls. They called Housekeeping, and then Linen, but as the seconds crawled on, I knew I am never seeing the amulet again. Heading back to bed feeling so damn lousy, I ran through a long list of reasons in my head of how I was going to explain this loss to Mum. I recalled how worried Mum looked at the A&E. And how being the true believer of all things good, bought me the amulet with her own hard-earned money, just so that I would be safe, and so that no more harm would come to me. I made a silent promise to myself, to treat Mum better, and never to make her upset ever ever again. This time, I remember crying myself to sleep.
This episode reminded me of how much the people I hold dear to my heart love me back, if not more. Initially, I did not want anyone to visit because I felt at my lowest state and I did not want anyone to see me like this. But as the days went on, I realised that my mood really improved when I got visitors. How I wished I had informed the secondary school and poly cliques, but I don't want more people to worry about me.
To Sab:
Thank you for being the ever-supportive girlfriend that you are, visiting me everyday without fail. I never thought I could love you more than I already did, but you prove me wrong time and again. I am sorry for making you cry. I know that you're being strict but it is all for my own good. I promise to eat healthier and I will definitely stay strong so that I can take care of you again when I recover. It is impossible to list everything that you've done for me because there is really too many. Thank you for everything, my dearest baobao. Love you. ♥
To Wes:
Thank you for visiting me twice at the hospital and buying me fruits. I will always remember the words you texted me: "Don't worry too much about the future because I'm sure it looks good for you and my sis." That's all the assurance I need. In the meantime, please do me a favour and take care of your sister when she is at home, and let me know if she ever ever feels the tiniest bit of upset. Thanks Wes, you'll always be among my best bros.
To Auntie and Uncle:
Thank you for visiting me at the hospital and showing so much care and concern for my condition. I'll definitely take things slower like you mentioned and focus more on my health.
To Hyung,
Thank you so much for taking the trouble to cook porridge for me, knowing that I was hospitalised. That was really unexpected, as your presence is more than enough. Thank you for caring enough to force Sab to divulge the information to you. Although I did not want too many people to know about this, you went ahead to visit me instead of simply texting GWS.
To Ense:
Thank you for bringing the iPad and putting shows in because you were afraid I would be bored and restless at the hospital. Thank you for making the effort of coming to visit me too.
To Koukou:
Thank you for visiting me at the hospital everyday without fail and being so worried about my health. I'll stay strong for you. Thank you for buying me fruits for vitamins too.
To Ryan:
Thank you for visiting me at the hospital and explaining to me terms that I did not comprehend. Thank you for searching for an ideal heart rate monitor that I could use, and bringing Sheryl to visit me too. Although you're my only brother, you're the best brother I can ever have.
To my beloved Mum:
Ma, there are too many things I need to thank you for, and although you're probably not going to read this, thank you for pampering me with food and making sure I was comfortable and well during my stay at the hospital. And for buying me all the food that I wanted to eat. For asking me not to worry about the costs and focus on recuperating. And for getting me the amulet which I lost on the same day. Sorry for losing it. And for offering to buy me a heart rate monitoring device. I love you, Mum.
To my awesome Dad:
Pa, although you couldn't visit me some days due to work, I know your thoughts are with me. Even though you don't say much, I know that you have my interests at heart and only want the best for me. And you keep asking me not to care about the costs and simply concentrate on getting well. And for excusing yourself to go downstairs so that my friends could visit. I love you too, Dad.
I did not inform anyone regarding the details of my hospitalisation, or the nature of my sickness, so to anyone reading this, please do not feel disappointed that I did not confide in you. I didn't mean it that way. I really just did not want anyone to worry about me.
Last Friday, I woke up in the late afternoon, breathless. My pulsating chest and rapid heart rate were the initial warning signs. Ignoring these signals, I thought and silently prayed that it would vanish with time. How wrong could I be. These symptoms carried on throughout the weekend and hit me hardest on Sunday. While having a late breakfast, I felt myself gradually gasping for air and my heart was pumping so violently and intermittently that I thought I could black out. Fearing the worst, I typed out my intention to visit the doctor immediately on Sab's phone. She wolfed down her food and immediately changed and we headed down to the clinic. Fortunately, the clinic was relatively empty and I was able to see the physician within minutes. After stating my symptoms, the doctor proceeded to perform an Electrocardiogram (ECG) and duly referred me to the Accident & Emergency Department (A&E) at CGH.
Upon reaching the waiting area at CGH, I was given a fast-track for another ECG to be performed and within minutes, I was wheeled into the bustling emergency medical area. After an ultrasound and a chest x-ray, I was pierced with a needle for an IV drip and from that moment onwards, I knew that I will need to be warded at the hospital. Swallowing approximately ten pills of various colours, I feared for the worst. The next few hours were a blur, as I was pushed into the Intensive Care Area and back out, before I was finally warded at the Cardiology Ward. It was confirmed - I was diagnosed with Hyperthyroidism. The thyroid gland that controls metabolism levels, heart rate, perspiration, and a whole barrage of other functions, was working overtime and producing excess levels of hormones.
I had to be attached to a telemetry device where my heart rate was electronically wired to the nurses' laptop. There was one time just two days ago that I emerged from the bed when the nurses wanted to change my bedsheet. Reprising my role as the kanchiong spider that I normally am, I totally forgot about my current condition and got up immediately. Beads of perspiration started forming on my temples and almost simultaneously, my heart rate shot up to 200 beats per minute. My vision almost blacked out completely and I had to grasp on to the bedside drawer for support. The worst case scenarios I had previously entertained in my mind prior to this flashed by me in an instant. I cannot remember the last time I felt so despondent at the weakness of my own body. At that moment, nurses started to rush in, pegging me to the ECG machine and tying to calm me down. The thing is, I wasn't even agitated or worked up. I felt normal.
I am on three different types of medication. One is to control the hyperactive production of the thyroid hormone, one is to control the heart rate, and the last one has a blood thinning effect to prevent blood clots, due to the irregularity and palpitations of my heart beats. In the short-term, I am probably on medication until my condition gets better. After a few months of monitoring, I may be advised to undergo radioactive iodine therapy, which will effectively halt the hormone-producing ability of the thyroid. Which also means I will be on counter-reacting medication to replace the hormones in my body for the rest of my life. But I am not thinking so much for now. I just need to get better.
Due to the excruciating blood thinning injections I received on my stomach once in the morning and once at night, my skin has become so thin that simple scratches like these leave scars and I really do not know when these will heal.
The first time I cried was at the clinic. Leaving the doctor's office, tears were already rolling down Sab's face. She looked so worried and probably taken aback at the gravity of the situation, the fact that I had to be referred to the A&E department.
The second time we both cried was at the A&E department at CGH. I had been hoisted on the bed and doctors were fussing all over me. When She was finally able to enter to visit, she looked terribly worried and scared as I held her gentle hands. Both of us did not know what to think, or what to do. I really cannot bear to see her cry.
The third time I cried was in the ward. The specialist doctor was explaining the treatment methods and the nature of the sickness. I cried because I thought I was stronger than this. I thought I had trained hard enough so as not to be inflicted with sicknesses easily. I cried because now, I am unable to fulfill my initial promise to protect Sab, and make sure she is well taken care of. Ironically, it is her that has to take care of me now. I cried because I did not want my family to bear the burden of my medical bills. I cried because I did not want to depend on medication for the rest of my life. I cried because I felt sorry towards everyone who cared for me, that they would have to expend the extra effort to look out for me from now on. This was one of the few times I genuinely felt pure sadness. The tears never stopped falling.
The fourth time I cried was when I was in bed, all alone in the middle of the night. Mum had bought me an amulet to bless me, as those born in the year of the Monkey would offend some deities this year. However, being the extremely muddle-headed person that I am, I left it in the previous hospital gown that I discarded after I showered. At 12 midnight, I jolted awake when I suddenly remembered about the amulet. Ignoring my gradually increasing heart rate, I looked absolutely everywhere. The clothing bin, the shower room, the bathroom, under my pillow, everywhere. And as it slowly dawned to me that I am never finding it again, my eyes turned watery again. It was a familiar sight, me looking for something that I am never getting back ever again. Lamenting the loss of a precious item because I stupidly neglected its existence. And as I slowly trudged to the nurses' station for the first time, I was still composed. By the second time I went over to the nurses' station to plead with them to assist me to find my lost item, all I felt was desperation. I didn't care that the nurses saw me in this sorry state, a grown teenage male crying in front of similar-aged girls. They called Housekeeping, and then Linen, but as the seconds crawled on, I knew I am never seeing the amulet again. Heading back to bed feeling so damn lousy, I ran through a long list of reasons in my head of how I was going to explain this loss to Mum. I recalled how worried Mum looked at the A&E. And how being the true believer of all things good, bought me the amulet with her own hard-earned money, just so that I would be safe, and so that no more harm would come to me. I made a silent promise to myself, to treat Mum better, and never to make her upset ever ever again. This time, I remember crying myself to sleep.
This episode reminded me of how much the people I hold dear to my heart love me back, if not more. Initially, I did not want anyone to visit because I felt at my lowest state and I did not want anyone to see me like this. But as the days went on, I realised that my mood really improved when I got visitors. How I wished I had informed the secondary school and poly cliques, but I don't want more people to worry about me.
To Sab:
Thank you for being the ever-supportive girlfriend that you are, visiting me everyday without fail. I never thought I could love you more than I already did, but you prove me wrong time and again. I am sorry for making you cry. I know that you're being strict but it is all for my own good. I promise to eat healthier and I will definitely stay strong so that I can take care of you again when I recover. It is impossible to list everything that you've done for me because there is really too many. Thank you for everything, my dearest baobao. Love you. ♥
To Wes:
Thank you for visiting me twice at the hospital and buying me fruits. I will always remember the words you texted me: "Don't worry too much about the future because I'm sure it looks good for you and my sis." That's all the assurance I need. In the meantime, please do me a favour and take care of your sister when she is at home, and let me know if she ever ever feels the tiniest bit of upset. Thanks Wes, you'll always be among my best bros.
To Auntie and Uncle:
Thank you for visiting me at the hospital and showing so much care and concern for my condition. I'll definitely take things slower like you mentioned and focus more on my health.
To Hyung,
Thank you so much for taking the trouble to cook porridge for me, knowing that I was hospitalised. That was really unexpected, as your presence is more than enough. Thank you for caring enough to force Sab to divulge the information to you. Although I did not want too many people to know about this, you went ahead to visit me instead of simply texting GWS.
To Ense:
Thank you for bringing the iPad and putting shows in because you were afraid I would be bored and restless at the hospital. Thank you for making the effort of coming to visit me too.
To Koukou:
Thank you for visiting me at the hospital everyday without fail and being so worried about my health. I'll stay strong for you. Thank you for buying me fruits for vitamins too.
To Ryan:
Thank you for visiting me at the hospital and explaining to me terms that I did not comprehend. Thank you for searching for an ideal heart rate monitor that I could use, and bringing Sheryl to visit me too. Although you're my only brother, you're the best brother I can ever have.
To my beloved Mum:
Ma, there are too many things I need to thank you for, and although you're probably not going to read this, thank you for pampering me with food and making sure I was comfortable and well during my stay at the hospital. And for buying me all the food that I wanted to eat. For asking me not to worry about the costs and focus on recuperating. And for getting me the amulet which I lost on the same day. Sorry for losing it. And for offering to buy me a heart rate monitoring device. I love you, Mum.
To my awesome Dad:
Pa, although you couldn't visit me some days due to work, I know your thoughts are with me. Even though you don't say much, I know that you have my interests at heart and only want the best for me. And you keep asking me not to care about the costs and simply concentrate on getting well. And for excusing yourself to go downstairs so that my friends could visit. I love you too, Dad.
Wednesday, January 6, 2016
Bangkok - 22nd to 26th December 2015
Our year-end trip to Bangkok in December was our first official trip in the sole company of each other. It was memorable in the sense that it showed us a little on how everyday life would be like, living with each other in future And it simply makes me more excited for what lies ahead. Even though the dangers were apparent and very real, given the recent threat of terrorism that struck Thailand, we promised each other that we will always stay together and take all precautions to ensure that we would be on the plane home safely. I was really so damn worried about our safety the entire trip as I would never allow anything to happen to S.
I admit that there were times when I was grumpier than usual, throwing my little fits whenever I felt hot or when the hunger pangs struck. And for those who know me well, these are two of my most basic needs on my personal version of the Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs. But I am really really glad that Sab was understanding and more often than not, gave in to me. Especially at the supermarket when my beastly desire for food took over and I spent close to 900baht on groceries, of which 75% consisted of snacks. I scare myself with my own gluttony sometimes.
Prior to arriving in Thailand, we said beforehand that we would only board taxis that went by the meter. However, these are really not that easy to come across. On our second day, we went to the Concierge for assistance to flag down a metered taxi. And when we thought all was well, the driver quoted us a fixed price of 300baht. Not knowing the actual distance, we haggled for a discount of 50baht. However, the journey took only about 15 minutes, which could not have gone over 100baht if we had gone by the meter. Since it was only our second day, we really did not have a grasp of the dangers in Bangkok and would rather part with the money than fear for our safety. Lesson learnt, we only boarded metered taxis from then on, except for our departure to the airport.
Before the trip, we seemed like revered haggling masters, but we soon discovered how poor our discount-seeking skills actually were. Except a pair of sunglasses that she managed to snag for 200baht from a 650baht initial price. In a foreign land, there really is nothing much we can do without exposing ourselves to danger.
This last trip of the year had been really meaningful, making me realise how precious S is to me, and I promise I will take greater care of her. It really showed us how much we really complement each other. If this is how our future lives will play out, I wish the future could come quicker.
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| Look how excited she looks! |
I admit that there were times when I was grumpier than usual, throwing my little fits whenever I felt hot or when the hunger pangs struck. And for those who know me well, these are two of my most basic needs on my personal version of the Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs. But I am really really glad that Sab was understanding and more often than not, gave in to me. Especially at the supermarket when my beastly desire for food took over and I spent close to 900baht on groceries, of which 75% consisted of snacks. I scare myself with my own gluttony sometimes.
Prior to arriving in Thailand, we said beforehand that we would only board taxis that went by the meter. However, these are really not that easy to come across. On our second day, we went to the Concierge for assistance to flag down a metered taxi. And when we thought all was well, the driver quoted us a fixed price of 300baht. Not knowing the actual distance, we haggled for a discount of 50baht. However, the journey took only about 15 minutes, which could not have gone over 100baht if we had gone by the meter. Since it was only our second day, we really did not have a grasp of the dangers in Bangkok and would rather part with the money than fear for our safety. Lesson learnt, we only boarded metered taxis from then on, except for our departure to the airport.
Before the trip, we seemed like revered haggling masters, but we soon discovered how poor our discount-seeking skills actually were. Except a pair of sunglasses that she managed to snag for 200baht from a 650baht initial price. In a foreign land, there really is nothing much we can do without exposing ourselves to danger.
This last trip of the year had been really meaningful, making me realise how precious S is to me, and I promise I will take greater care of her. It really showed us how much we really complement each other. If this is how our future lives will play out, I wish the future could come quicker.
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| Waiting in line for Sabx2! Featuring my swollen eyes due to lack of sleep. |
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| The intestines at Sabx2. Best intestines I ever had! |
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| The famous Sabx2 Wanton Noodles. Honestly, I feel that this is overrated and nothing to shout about actually. |
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| Tom Yum UFO at Sansab Restaurant. We cleaned out the entire pot. |
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| Peppermint Green Tea. Subtle taste of peppermint. I like. |
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| This "salad prawn" lookalike we had at Petite Audrey. |
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| Add caption |
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| Thai Tea Crepe Cake |
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| Christmas Tree Flowerpot Cake |
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| Add caption |
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| Shibuya Toast at After You Cafe |
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| S and her obsession with unicorns strikes again. |
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| Shopping loot. |
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| Food loot. |
It still doesn't feel real that it has already been more than two weeks since we departed for this trip. It simply happened too quickly. But it's alright, this will definitely be the first of many, my love.
Monday, January 4, 2016
One post a month ever since August 2015. What do you call that? Consistency.
It's January, the month of resolutions. And what did we resolve to achieve by the end of the year? To eat healthily. I can't deny that I have been eating loads more due to being in a relationship, but I guess that can be attributed to being happy in it. Food translates to happiness. At least it does for me.
Got back from Bangkok just over a week ago, and it still feels so surreal. That I got to end the year on such a splendid note, with my "favouritest" person in the Universe. Five straight days in her sole company may seem little, but I highly doubt that we will get many opportunities like this much in future once we both embark on our respective careers.
The best things that happened to me in 2015:
The return of ♥ from Melbourne on July 1
♥'s planning of my birthday at We are the Furballs and Carnivore
Our 1st anniversary celebration at The Clan
Our first official trip to Bangkok on December 22
"It wasn't easy for us to come together, so never want us to be apart ever again."
And of course, not forgetting my family being kept safe and happy throughout the year.
For 2016, I hope that we can all be safe and happy. It may seem basic, but really, if you ignore the immaterial things that offer temporary respite, safety and happiness is already alot to ask for.
I hope that I will be able to navigate through university smoothly.
I hope that S and I will continue to love each other unconditionally.
I hope that everyone I hold dear will be safe and happy.
I hope to be less passive and more proactive.
2015 had been good to me. Therefore, I just hope 2016 will be better than 2015.
It's January, the month of resolutions. And what did we resolve to achieve by the end of the year? To eat healthily. I can't deny that I have been eating loads more due to being in a relationship, but I guess that can be attributed to being happy in it. Food translates to happiness. At least it does for me.
Got back from Bangkok just over a week ago, and it still feels so surreal. That I got to end the year on such a splendid note, with my "favouritest" person in the Universe. Five straight days in her sole company may seem little, but I highly doubt that we will get many opportunities like this much in future once we both embark on our respective careers.
The best things that happened to me in 2015:
The return of ♥ from Melbourne on July 1
♥'s planning of my birthday at We are the Furballs and Carnivore
Our 1st anniversary celebration at The Clan
Our first official trip to Bangkok on December 22
"It wasn't easy for us to come together, so never want us to be apart ever again."
And of course, not forgetting my family being kept safe and happy throughout the year.
For 2016, I hope that we can all be safe and happy. It may seem basic, but really, if you ignore the immaterial things that offer temporary respite, safety and happiness is already alot to ask for.
I hope that I will be able to navigate through university smoothly.
I hope that S and I will continue to love each other unconditionally.
I hope that everyone I hold dear will be safe and happy.
I hope to be less passive and more proactive.
2015 had been good to me. Therefore, I just hope 2016 will be better than 2015.
Monday, December 7, 2015
I am just finding reasons not to go back to my revision. Ironically. studying was exactly what I wanted when I was working after NS, yet now I just want to graduate and start working for real. Moral of the story: The grass always looks better on the other side.
Spent the last five days with my favourite girl and it is a real indication that there is never a dull moment with her. We had Saizeriya and a sleepover on Wednesday to commemorate the last exams she ever has to take in her life, unless she decides to do a PhD. *pops confetti* And also because someone was craving for snails. (What in the world of weirdness craving is that? :D)
Went along to meet her poly friends on Friday at Breko Cafe @ Holland Village to get to know the people close to her a little better. All I can say is that I know she is in good hands whenever she is not with me. We headed over to Acid Bar for some lychee and apple shots after that but somehow the alcohol was really strong and distasteful, unlike the first time I tasted it. Wasn't supposed to stay over again after that but as how it always is, targeting to take the last bus of the night became a resignation to fate of taking the first bus the next morning.
Sunday saw us head over to L E Cafe Confectionery & Pastry because I was craving for beancurd tarts in my previous dream hehehe. Caught in the rain but the staff at Rendezvous Hotel were nice enough to spare us an umbrella even though we were not guests at the hotel. How awesome is that? We shared a kiss under the umbrella in the pouring rain so I guess that is one thing off the "romantic things-to-do" list? :) We saw other people stranded in the rain and S was so kind-hearted in wanting to share the umbrella we had with others even when we were both already getting wet. Heart of gold she has, this angel. Went to claim my Gong Cha 1-for-1 but somehow it tasted like Taro more than the Matcha Latte we ordered. Which makes us wonder whether the standard for their free drinks are ultimately inferior to their standard drinks. Had tomyum maggi at 7-11 to accompany our drinks because someone was craving for it and somehow it's "perfect weather" to eat maggi. Disclaimer: I have absolutely no part to play in such far-fetched logic. According to her, that is. Embarked on a food coma-inducing steamboat and grill dinner at home, which explains why we slept like pigs after dinner. Hiak hiak hiak. >.<
Fifteen more days to Bangkok and I pray hard that the trip will go through as planned because we have waited too long for this. Three papers stand in my way and may I be granted the wisdom to ace them. *inserts arm flex emoji*
Spent the last five days with my favourite girl and it is a real indication that there is never a dull moment with her. We had Saizeriya and a sleepover on Wednesday to commemorate the last exams she ever has to take in her life, unless she decides to do a PhD. *pops confetti* And also because someone was craving for snails. (What in the world of weirdness craving is that? :D)
Went along to meet her poly friends on Friday at Breko Cafe @ Holland Village to get to know the people close to her a little better. All I can say is that I know she is in good hands whenever she is not with me. We headed over to Acid Bar for some lychee and apple shots after that but somehow the alcohol was really strong and distasteful, unlike the first time I tasted it. Wasn't supposed to stay over again after that but as how it always is, targeting to take the last bus of the night became a resignation to fate of taking the first bus the next morning.
Sunday saw us head over to L E Cafe Confectionery & Pastry because I was craving for beancurd tarts in my previous dream hehehe. Caught in the rain but the staff at Rendezvous Hotel were nice enough to spare us an umbrella even though we were not guests at the hotel. How awesome is that? We shared a kiss under the umbrella in the pouring rain so I guess that is one thing off the "romantic things-to-do" list? :) We saw other people stranded in the rain and S was so kind-hearted in wanting to share the umbrella we had with others even when we were both already getting wet. Heart of gold she has, this angel. Went to claim my Gong Cha 1-for-1 but somehow it tasted like Taro more than the Matcha Latte we ordered. Which makes us wonder whether the standard for their free drinks are ultimately inferior to their standard drinks. Had tomyum maggi at 7-11 to accompany our drinks because someone was craving for it and somehow it's "perfect weather" to eat maggi. Disclaimer: I have absolutely no part to play in such far-fetched logic. According to her, that is. Embarked on a food coma-inducing steamboat and grill dinner at home, which explains why we slept like pigs after dinner. Hiak hiak hiak. >.<
Fifteen more days to Bangkok and I pray hard that the trip will go through as planned because we have waited too long for this. Three papers stand in my way and may I be granted the wisdom to ace them. *inserts arm flex emoji*
Thursday, November 12, 2015
I know I am not the most open person. Nor do I want everything about me to be plastered all over social media. That is why I chose to confide in just a few close friends. It is one thing to share news about everyday life, and another thing to confide in someone else when it comes to relationship matters. If I tell you anything regarding this personal subject, it means that I really trust you, and the least I expect is for you to share in my joy, and not use my words and ridicule me in front of someone else. And when I say I am serious about my future plans, you mock me and my perceived rashness. And seriously, don't you know that making fun of a bro's girlfriend is absolutely taboo? Or bringing up an ex-relationship just to prove a point? Aren't you always sensitive about these things? Since you don't appreciate my sharing of such personal information, I guess I am just going to revert back to my reclusive old self. Because I see no value in letting you know such personal details about me anymore.
Saturday, October 24, 2015
The past one month was exactly not how I imagined life after army would be. I thought things would get easier without regimentation, without the shackles of rules and reason, without the dangers of punishment, nor the rush of adrenaline that comes with responsibility. Oh how the tables have turned. After two years of climbing the hierarchy of military ranks, here I am again as a plain old citizen trying to make ends meet with the massive burden of tuition fees weighing upon my poor old back.
It's funny how I only take away the positive things in life, and leave behind the dreaded memories of old. And don't quote me on that because I am never consistent. So that's just a disclaimer, should I eat my words. The working life taught me a really powerful lesson on how passion changes, and how it can dissolve to naught if wasn't even real in the first place. Even after internship, and the waves of bad publicity surrounding the industry, I chose to make the leap of faith. And I thank my lucky stars that I wasn't wavered by the offer to sponsor my university studies at the cost of five years of commitment. At this point of time, I know I would have regretted that poor decision.
University was exactly how I knew it would be - a whirlwind. In just the short span of a month, I have already reached the halfway mark of this trimester. And three thousand dollars out of my pocket. But I continue to convince myself that it will all be worth it when I find that dream career in time to come. I know I would not make it far with just a diploma on hand.
And exactly a week ago, Sab and I celebrated our first anniversary together. *pops confetti*
It still makes me wonder sometimes, what good karma have I ever cultivated in my life to deserve someone like her? And one year is truly a milestone, given how I never even thought all this could happen. And as we laid down yesterday to reminisce about our initial dates, it still made my heart palpitate just a little faster as I recalled my emotions then, approaching her doorstep on our first date.
School is still the typical dread. But the reason why I drag myself to class is probably because I paid $250 for one day at school. Why can't education in Singapore be free like some other countries? :(
Worked the past two days at an event with chong and steph. It was pretty good money, given how mundane it was and I exhausted all two hundred percent of my phone's battery so that gives you a rough idea of how I spent my time "working". Free food and working with close friends made it all the more enjoyable. Gone are the days where we meet up as often as once a week. So meeting them two days in a row and being paid for that doesn't hurt at all.
And the thing about being all alone at home is that I feel guilty for whiling my time away playing FIFA and catching up on videos on youtube. There are things to be done, but nah, I have absolutely no regrets. For now.
It's funny how I only take away the positive things in life, and leave behind the dreaded memories of old. And don't quote me on that because I am never consistent. So that's just a disclaimer, should I eat my words. The working life taught me a really powerful lesson on how passion changes, and how it can dissolve to naught if wasn't even real in the first place. Even after internship, and the waves of bad publicity surrounding the industry, I chose to make the leap of faith. And I thank my lucky stars that I wasn't wavered by the offer to sponsor my university studies at the cost of five years of commitment. At this point of time, I know I would have regretted that poor decision.
University was exactly how I knew it would be - a whirlwind. In just the short span of a month, I have already reached the halfway mark of this trimester. And three thousand dollars out of my pocket. But I continue to convince myself that it will all be worth it when I find that dream career in time to come. I know I would not make it far with just a diploma on hand.
And exactly a week ago, Sab and I celebrated our first anniversary together. *pops confetti*
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| Photo credits: Sab's wordpress. |
It still makes me wonder sometimes, what good karma have I ever cultivated in my life to deserve someone like her? And one year is truly a milestone, given how I never even thought all this could happen. And as we laid down yesterday to reminisce about our initial dates, it still made my heart palpitate just a little faster as I recalled my emotions then, approaching her doorstep on our first date.
School is still the typical dread. But the reason why I drag myself to class is probably because I paid $250 for one day at school. Why can't education in Singapore be free like some other countries? :(
Worked the past two days at an event with chong and steph. It was pretty good money, given how mundane it was and I exhausted all two hundred percent of my phone's battery so that gives you a rough idea of how I spent my time "working". Free food and working with close friends made it all the more enjoyable. Gone are the days where we meet up as often as once a week. So meeting them two days in a row and being paid for that doesn't hurt at all.
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| Photo credits: Steph's dayre. |
And the thing about being all alone at home is that I feel guilty for whiling my time away playing FIFA and catching up on videos on youtube. There are things to be done, but nah, I have absolutely no regrets. For now.
Sunday, September 27, 2015
One year on, I finally realise that replying to this tweet of hers was probably the best decision I could ever make.
(I would say in my life, but I shall leave that for a later stage :x)
I still remember that I was cooped up in the operations room while on duty. She direct messaged me telling me that her brother had gotten attached. And from there, we started conversing using twitter DM, And then, this happened:
And yes, that must be the daftest way I had ever gotten a girl's number, but what matters is that it worked right? *inserts wink emoticon*
To be honest, asking her out wasn't even in my plans initially, but I went ahead with my gut feel anyway. I know how weird it is to other people, to be dating one of your close friend's sister, but it just seemed so right. Even though we had known of each other's existence for about 7 years, we were almost total strangers before. And although it may seem terribly foolish at that time to jump right into a relationship after a mere two weeks of dating, I have absolutely no regrets now. And then it finally dawned on me. The reason I had been waiting all these years, was so that she could fit right in when the time is right. And now that she's latched right in, I know she's definitely a keeper.
Thursday, August 20, 2015
A Review on the Past Three Months: Why I Am Never Coming Back
Upon completing full-time National Service back in June, I decided to take on a six-month full-time job and subsequently enrol in the January 2016 intake to commence my university education. This was the perfect plan at that time, considering that I would not be jumping straight into studies after two suffocating years in the army wearing a helmet that most probably made me dumb, if it hadn't already; and at the same time earn some cash to offset my hefty tuition fees.
It seemed all too convenient returning back to the familiarity of my internship position, considering my four-month stint there prior to enlistment. All I could think of was going back to the same work environment, doing the same no-brainer tasks and working with the same friendly people. Alas, how wrong could I be. My first warning bell went off during the interview of hire, whereby I was quizzed on what my expected salary would be. When I replied "at least $1800 considering that I had a diploma", I was brought down to earth, being told that paper qualifications do not matter at all in the pay scale of the company. Which now explains how I am currently drawing a relatively higher pay than my colleague who has a Bachelor's degree. Can you imagine that? Going through university education to be paid peanuts here? And that's precisely the reason why they do not want people to be discussing about their salaries, because the facts will all be laid bare. The "working with the same friendly people" plan was thrown out the window because the number of people left back from my time amounted to a meagre two.
Work was terrible, more horrendous than I would ever expect. We are still working the same labour-intensive scheduled 9.5 hour shifts, but the fact that for morning shifts, you are required to be in 30 minutes earlier at 5.30am and often clock out only at 5pm, you just did a whopping 11.5 hour shift. Goodbye sleep, goodbye social life, goodbye life in general. Overtime doesn't even have a structured system, which explains why I prefer not to claim OT entirely. Furthermore, they may even chide you for claiming OT when you were the one that couldn't finish your work within your scheduled hours. Which isn't necessarily true, because they have daily department meetings called "lineup" which often cross the 3.30pm shift ending time of the AM shift. Add that to the shift handovers and voila, you are still there at 4.30pm.
Working shift work leaves you lifeless no matter which shift you are scheduled for. Waking up at 4.40am for morning shift makes me a zombie even if I slept at 9pm the previous day. And to sleep at 9pm means I am missing out on all the meet ups with the cliques, basketball nights, or even dinners out with the family. Which translates into an anti-social, fatigued, prone to falling sick and bad-tempered me. I seek your royal pardon should you ever encounter any of those above-mentioned traits of mine.
Working the afternoon shift translates to me being able to sleep in, but reaching home at 1.30am means you will be sleeping till approximately 9am, which leaves you 4 hours of free time before you head back to that "hellhole". Mid shift seems more plausible then, spanning from 11am to 8.30pm. But considering the late clock-out and heavy traffic, it is only by 1030pm that I finally reach home. There was once I did a mid shift followed by a morning shift, which meant I had to sleep immediately upon reaching home, and wake up at 4.40am thereafter. I did not even have time to grab a bite before sleeping, fearing that my intestines would be put into overdrive should I sleep right away after gobbling. I missed my taxi the very next morning because I was so tired that I switched off my alarm. Twice.
And the roster. Gosh I don't even want to talk about it but I have to. The work roster is supposed to be released every Thursday, for the upcoming week commencing on a Monday. That is the reason why we have to submit our leave requests two weeks in advance, so the managers can plan their manpower and dish out ample rest to those who have been working more than five days in a row. Working 7 to 10 days in a row here is so damn common. And given our workload and the long hours, we could be working up to 60 hours a week. The thing about the roster is that it is never released on time. Most commonly, it will be released only on Saturday, giving you two days to plan your activities for the coming week. In addition, there are numerous roster changes so in the end, the finalised roster will only be confirmed on Sunday. How awesome is that? In addition, should manpower restrict, the company "has every right to compensate you in place of your public holiday off-in-lieus and annual leave". I am simply speechless.
And how the company preaches to you via propaganda posters about how employees are to be accorded the same treatment as guests, and how we are their most valuable asset is simply plain nonsense. The fact that the turnover rate is so damn high, coupled with the lack of welfare for staff, the terrible staff meals, and most importantly the pathetic salary, I would burn that poster down if I could. Work is terrible, I know I have said this a thousand times, but it totally is, because of the fact that figures come before employee welfare. Let's do the math. I have 20 tables, and when put to full utility, can accommodate a maximum of 4 occupants. That puts my maximum occupancy at 80 pax. During peak periods, we could be overbooked for all 106 rooms. And assume that three guests are residing in a room, we can have 318 guests fighting for just 80 seats.
Being overbooked during peak periods can only mean that staff are stretched to the limit. And when staff are stretched to the limit, guest service drops at a rapid rate. I don't have to be a hotelier to translate those facts for them. Naturally, overall satisfaction declines, and who is to blame? Us of course. Every single day, I am told how I should treat my guests, how I should wow them, and make them our guests for life. But did it ever occur to you, what good does that do me? Would I get incentives? Would I get commission? Would I get better employee welfare? The answer is none of the above. You may argue that that is part of my job, but what makes you think that I will go all out of my way to make a guest happy if I already have so many things on my plate? And if the guest is unhappy about what I have done for them and complain, who bears the brunt? Me. My bottom line is that, if you can't make your employees happy, they in turn won't make your guests happy. And that is when things will start to go downhill from there. Everyday at work, I overhear people in the different departments complaining about their workload. Not once do I even see genuine happiness on their faces. How true it is that we are all forced to put on a smile even when we are not in the best of moods, that our smiles become fake, and our happiness becomes obsolete, and the jubilant faces that we portray day in day out are just a facade at work.
Diversity at work is one thing, but having too many people of one race is a disaster waiting to happen. I hate to say this, but doesn't it feel as though hotels are starting to become communities of Filipinos? The way they address each other and the language they speak to each other all carry tinges reminiscent of their homeland. Isn't this Singapore? Aren't we supposed to converse in the common language of English? Somehow I just don't feel like I can fit right in.
I am not a purely negative person, but the environment at work has become so toxic that I have no option left but to bring forward my university enrolment date and commence my undergraduate studies at an earlier date. A revision of my tuition fees is just half of the reason, and the above-mentioned factors make up the rest of it. Passion can only do so much, but I am sorry to say that my fire burned out as my fuel of passion ran thin.
Upon completing full-time National Service back in June, I decided to take on a six-month full-time job and subsequently enrol in the January 2016 intake to commence my university education. This was the perfect plan at that time, considering that I would not be jumping straight into studies after two suffocating years in the army wearing a helmet that most probably made me dumb, if it hadn't already; and at the same time earn some cash to offset my hefty tuition fees.
It seemed all too convenient returning back to the familiarity of my internship position, considering my four-month stint there prior to enlistment. All I could think of was going back to the same work environment, doing the same no-brainer tasks and working with the same friendly people. Alas, how wrong could I be. My first warning bell went off during the interview of hire, whereby I was quizzed on what my expected salary would be. When I replied "at least $1800 considering that I had a diploma", I was brought down to earth, being told that paper qualifications do not matter at all in the pay scale of the company. Which now explains how I am currently drawing a relatively higher pay than my colleague who has a Bachelor's degree. Can you imagine that? Going through university education to be paid peanuts here? And that's precisely the reason why they do not want people to be discussing about their salaries, because the facts will all be laid bare. The "working with the same friendly people" plan was thrown out the window because the number of people left back from my time amounted to a meagre two.
Work was terrible, more horrendous than I would ever expect. We are still working the same labour-intensive scheduled 9.5 hour shifts, but the fact that for morning shifts, you are required to be in 30 minutes earlier at 5.30am and often clock out only at 5pm, you just did a whopping 11.5 hour shift. Goodbye sleep, goodbye social life, goodbye life in general. Overtime doesn't even have a structured system, which explains why I prefer not to claim OT entirely. Furthermore, they may even chide you for claiming OT when you were the one that couldn't finish your work within your scheduled hours. Which isn't necessarily true, because they have daily department meetings called "lineup" which often cross the 3.30pm shift ending time of the AM shift. Add that to the shift handovers and voila, you are still there at 4.30pm.
Working shift work leaves you lifeless no matter which shift you are scheduled for. Waking up at 4.40am for morning shift makes me a zombie even if I slept at 9pm the previous day. And to sleep at 9pm means I am missing out on all the meet ups with the cliques, basketball nights, or even dinners out with the family. Which translates into an anti-social, fatigued, prone to falling sick and bad-tempered me. I seek your royal pardon should you ever encounter any of those above-mentioned traits of mine.
Working the afternoon shift translates to me being able to sleep in, but reaching home at 1.30am means you will be sleeping till approximately 9am, which leaves you 4 hours of free time before you head back to that "hellhole". Mid shift seems more plausible then, spanning from 11am to 8.30pm. But considering the late clock-out and heavy traffic, it is only by 1030pm that I finally reach home. There was once I did a mid shift followed by a morning shift, which meant I had to sleep immediately upon reaching home, and wake up at 4.40am thereafter. I did not even have time to grab a bite before sleeping, fearing that my intestines would be put into overdrive should I sleep right away after gobbling. I missed my taxi the very next morning because I was so tired that I switched off my alarm. Twice.
And the roster. Gosh I don't even want to talk about it but I have to. The work roster is supposed to be released every Thursday, for the upcoming week commencing on a Monday. That is the reason why we have to submit our leave requests two weeks in advance, so the managers can plan their manpower and dish out ample rest to those who have been working more than five days in a row. Working 7 to 10 days in a row here is so damn common. And given our workload and the long hours, we could be working up to 60 hours a week. The thing about the roster is that it is never released on time. Most commonly, it will be released only on Saturday, giving you two days to plan your activities for the coming week. In addition, there are numerous roster changes so in the end, the finalised roster will only be confirmed on Sunday. How awesome is that? In addition, should manpower restrict, the company "has every right to compensate you in place of your public holiday off-in-lieus and annual leave". I am simply speechless.
And how the company preaches to you via propaganda posters about how employees are to be accorded the same treatment as guests, and how we are their most valuable asset is simply plain nonsense. The fact that the turnover rate is so damn high, coupled with the lack of welfare for staff, the terrible staff meals, and most importantly the pathetic salary, I would burn that poster down if I could. Work is terrible, I know I have said this a thousand times, but it totally is, because of the fact that figures come before employee welfare. Let's do the math. I have 20 tables, and when put to full utility, can accommodate a maximum of 4 occupants. That puts my maximum occupancy at 80 pax. During peak periods, we could be overbooked for all 106 rooms. And assume that three guests are residing in a room, we can have 318 guests fighting for just 80 seats.
Being overbooked during peak periods can only mean that staff are stretched to the limit. And when staff are stretched to the limit, guest service drops at a rapid rate. I don't have to be a hotelier to translate those facts for them. Naturally, overall satisfaction declines, and who is to blame? Us of course. Every single day, I am told how I should treat my guests, how I should wow them, and make them our guests for life. But did it ever occur to you, what good does that do me? Would I get incentives? Would I get commission? Would I get better employee welfare? The answer is none of the above. You may argue that that is part of my job, but what makes you think that I will go all out of my way to make a guest happy if I already have so many things on my plate? And if the guest is unhappy about what I have done for them and complain, who bears the brunt? Me. My bottom line is that, if you can't make your employees happy, they in turn won't make your guests happy. And that is when things will start to go downhill from there. Everyday at work, I overhear people in the different departments complaining about their workload. Not once do I even see genuine happiness on their faces. How true it is that we are all forced to put on a smile even when we are not in the best of moods, that our smiles become fake, and our happiness becomes obsolete, and the jubilant faces that we portray day in day out are just a facade at work.
Diversity at work is one thing, but having too many people of one race is a disaster waiting to happen. I hate to say this, but doesn't it feel as though hotels are starting to become communities of Filipinos? The way they address each other and the language they speak to each other all carry tinges reminiscent of their homeland. Isn't this Singapore? Aren't we supposed to converse in the common language of English? Somehow I just don't feel like I can fit right in.
I am not a purely negative person, but the environment at work has become so toxic that I have no option left but to bring forward my university enrolment date and commence my undergraduate studies at an earlier date. A revision of my tuition fees is just half of the reason, and the above-mentioned factors make up the rest of it. Passion can only do so much, but I am sorry to say that my fire burned out as my fuel of passion ran thin.
Saturday, June 27, 2015
RE: Reconciliation
After almost twenty weeks, I can safely say that she is finally coming home. *insert heart eyes emoticon* The past four months plus seemed to be the longest ever period of waiting. From sending her off at the airport to finally picking her up again in just another four days, we will finally be reunited again. It has only been a little over eight months that we have been together, and having her spend the bulk of it apart from me was entirely heartbreaking. Although we would text everyday and videocall almost every other night, it ultimately still isn't the same as having your most beloved one back by your side. You know the feeling is mutual when it pains you so much to see her cry when she's settling over in Melbourne, or when misunderstandings arise, or even just because she misses us too much. There have been tears, no doubt. But from now on, I will ensure that the tears that roll down her face are tears of joy, no less.
The past twenty weeks have taught us that separation is temporary, but understanding is eternal. Although she has missed the many milestones of my National Service stint, she is still the only support I could ever ask for. Our time zones are a couple of hours apart but she always makes sure that I go to sleep if I have a long day tomorrow, sometimes at the expense of her own rest. Even through video call, she still ensures that I drink enough water and eat my greens. Even in my grumpiest state, she still tells me I am cute to her. Decked out in my pyjamas and spectacles all ready for bed, she still tells me I look good. She knows when my eyes are red when I wear my contact lens for too long. She appreciates every little thing I do for her and her family. She always complains about her breakouts and pimples when we video call, attempting to show me every zit, but deep down inside, I know she is still the most beautiful. It pains me whenever she gets anxiety attacks and is unable to sleep at night, but yet there is not a single damn thing I could have done. She is always unwilling to hang up first, so we always end up jostling over who has to hang up every time. And she's so adorable whenever she forgot if it's her turn and I had to admit that it's me in the end.
She will be returning in four days, and I know it is for good this time.
Because baby, I am latching on to you.
Love,
Your potato
The past twenty weeks have taught us that separation is temporary, but understanding is eternal. Although she has missed the many milestones of my National Service stint, she is still the only support I could ever ask for. Our time zones are a couple of hours apart but she always makes sure that I go to sleep if I have a long day tomorrow, sometimes at the expense of her own rest. Even through video call, she still ensures that I drink enough water and eat my greens. Even in my grumpiest state, she still tells me I am cute to her. Decked out in my pyjamas and spectacles all ready for bed, she still tells me I look good. She knows when my eyes are red when I wear my contact lens for too long. She appreciates every little thing I do for her and her family. She always complains about her breakouts and pimples when we video call, attempting to show me every zit, but deep down inside, I know she is still the most beautiful. It pains me whenever she gets anxiety attacks and is unable to sleep at night, but yet there is not a single damn thing I could have done. She is always unwilling to hang up first, so we always end up jostling over who has to hang up every time. And she's so adorable whenever she forgot if it's her turn and I had to admit that it's me in the end.
She will be returning in four days, and I know it is for good this time.
Because baby, I am latching on to you.
Love,
Your potato
Wednesday, May 6, 2015
Sunday, April 12, 2015
It's been a long and arduous journey for the past 22 months. Many highs and lows that define the whole National Service experience, but I would say that more good came out of it than bad. Basic Military Training or BMT phase was the most memorable time of these two years, hands down.
I remember:
Taking NAPFA in Year 3 of Poly, getting A for all the static stations but yet clocking 15 minutes for the run because I gave up after two rounds.
On enlistment day, queueing up to board the bus and being forced to tuck in my shirt by the sergeants facilitating.
Having quite a feast at the cookhouse, even having ice cream, which was meant to be a "show" for the parents because we never had a duck drumstick again since then, but having no appetite.
Scanning my Pink IC and it did not occur to me that I will never see it again in these 2 years.
Collecting the black duffel bag and lugging it four storeys to my allocated bunk.
Getting my phone cables, Panadol and other medication confiscated on the first day.
Taking $2 out of my wallet for the haircut. (And then comparing whose hair was nicer when we all looked the same. Half an inch was considered a world of difference back then.)
Going into the platoon office on the second day and Sergeant J told me that he expected me to get into command school. Thanks for the pressure, Sarge.
Taught how to fold the Smart Four to make our biceps look bigger by our PS.
Struggling while learning the correct way to tie the bootlaces.
Folding the perfect Smart Four and shining our boots to its full grandeur before every book-out. Not forgetting the last-minute pull-ups for confidence sake.
Counting down the days during confinement period, which was 18 days. Longest ever period of time away from home.
Tearing at the staircase the night before the first book-out because no one was available to pick me up at the bus interchange.
Looking for S whenever Wes and I were at the bus interchange for book-in on Sunday night.
Sunday mornings were the worst because I knew I had to book in at night.
Haze period and we were forced to stay in bunk the entire week. The foggy parade square, the physical training held at the lift landings, the boredom that led us to read newspapers from front to back and even the adverts, the issue of hand sanitisers to every bunk.
Logging onto Facebook and everyone would be stalking each other's sister, girlfriend, friend etc and saying "Eh, intro leh!" We were all desperate army boys.
Squeezing hand sanitiser on crushed newspaper and creating fireballs by lighting them on fire. What were we thinking then?
Getting punished by holding the push-up position outside the platoon office until everyone is done with their PC interview.
Taking the lift up to the fourth floor when no commanders were looking.
Buying canned drinks up to the bunk when no commanders were looking.
Running for our lives up the stairs to shower after every physical training session.
Collapsing and almost blacking out during Individual Field Craft (IFC) due to the lack of water and immense fatigue. From tearing down and building the basha too many times in the hot sun.
Totally abhorring the camo cream because it stings the eyes. And also because it never seems to dry due to excessive perspiration. And always having to touch up camo.
Hating every time there was IPPT because I would get butterflies in the stomach from the pressure of having to do better. And clocking 10:36 and a Silver for my final IPPT.
Running the coastal road and complaining about the fishy smell while running.
Doing aqua-jogging in the pool and teasing the others who couldn't swim.
Being afraid of the balancing beam in the SOC because I am flat-footed.
The countless route marches and how we always lose track of the distance. And the steam that can be seen leaving our bodies when we remove the LBV.
Contemplating whether to wear contact lens for range because the darn spectacles keep getting fogged up and making me miss my shots.
Hating the squatting /kneeling position of firing, because again, I am flat-footed.
Doing guard duty at ammo dump and sleeping in the aircon bunk. And the pitch-black darkness we had to patrol in.
Hearing the Platoon Commander talk about his JCC days in the jungles of Brunei. And wanting to do the same by getting into the Infantry Officer Cadet Course.
Getting second in Captain's Ball for the inter-company Games. And all the hate on Kestrel because they played a tad too rough.
Getting heat rash during Field Camp was one of the worst feelings. I wanted to remove my uniform to continue to dig the shellscrape because my pores were all clogged with dirt.
Digging the shellscrape and taking ages to do it. (I finished another one in OCS in just 30 minutes.)
Being taken to the beach near the field camp site and for once, relaxing during field camp.
Trying to avoid doing Number Two in outfield but succumbing on the fourth day.
Trying to catch up with the assessor during SIT test. How do they always manage to walk so fast? We had to run to even catch up with them.
Doing the SIT Test and trying to "blow up" the bridge with explosives when the assessor said detonation failed. Then I said use the Matador, but he said that failed too. THEN WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO BLOW IT UP WITH??? After that, he just said: "Let's go." Does that mean he has no idea too?
Camo-ing on again as punishment for removing our camo without instruction on the last day of field camp.
Booking out after field camp and becoming so dark that even S noticed.
Doing our first 24km route march and getting so happy when we could see the Singapore Flyer. And we slept at the F1 Paddock. And getting calls of "ORD lo!" while we were marching through East Coast Park.
And so, that concludes the best moments in BMT. Up next would be OCS - Service term.
Friday, April 3, 2015
15 days to the parade. 68 days to ORD. 89 days to baby's return. Throughout my NS life, it has always been about countdowns. Countdown to POP, countdown to Commissioning Day and now, countdown to ORD. These should be the last few countdowns before I complete my NS and transit into becoming a civilian. Next up in my life is school. I really hope SIT accepts my application. Please call me up for the second interview soon! This time, I really put all my eggs into one basket. But at the same time, studying in a university is really exorbitant. The course I'm looking at is roughly $27,000. How does the government even expect poor students like us from middle-class families to afford the school fees? And for private universities, it could be even worse because there are no subsidies or grants available. Some loans even charge interest once you enrol. That's so unreasonable. But it's not that I don't have the resources to pay for my school fees, but I feel that this is a burden I should undertake myself because I should take charge of my own education and development. But let me complete my NS before I can divert my attention on money matters. *sigh*
P.S: Missing you so much. I need you by my side more than ever. Please come back to me soon.:'(
Saturday, February 28, 2015
Is it normal to feel annoyed with technology? I know it's meant to make things easier, but hey guess what, it just makes things all the more complicated, making people take things for granted and gosh, this is so annoying. I think I have had it with all these. It's time to stop putting in so much effort. All those damn whatsapp groups are simply a facade for the "close friendship bonds". Not surprisingly, it's a battlefield out there. Constantly making plans, promises to meet up, damn all those godforsaken plans plans plans. No one even bothers to reply. And by that, I mean by those that have read the message but just simply couldn't be bothered to pick up their royal thumbs to even text a reply. You know how annoying this is? You think making plans are easy? Last minute pulling out, synchronising everybody's schedules, venue and time, you think it's all so easy? And there you all go about just reading it and IGNORING IT? It's time for me to be like you all as well. Fuck plans.
Wednesday, January 14, 2015
Tuesday, January 6, 2015
Sunday, December 7, 2014
Hey look it's 185 days to the big day. Not to commemorate, nor to celebrate, but to rejoice at being released from the clutches of National Service, albeit for a couple of years, fingers crossed I don't get recalled any time soon after.
I am also starting to get a tad more positive about NS nowadays, because I tell myself that all my problems now lie solely with NS, and I will be free from them once I ORD. I believe that's the right mindset to have now, instead of moping my current plight.
Give me the strength to carry on, because I can't summon it in myself to continue.
Thursday, November 20, 2014
You know how they always say that you will definitely become more mature when you go through National Service, like how the pride and passion of serving your nation rubs off on you and you become a better man? I mean I can't doubt that because I guess I learnt to talk less and probably listen more, as I discover that the ones that are perpetually silent are actually the ones who think the most. I mean, who doesn't like to speak? It's like a endeavour to make your thoughts heard as you tussle over who's the most vocal in a group. Anyway, I'm digressing here.
What I am trying to say is that however much I want my National Service experience to be fulfilling and totally worth that two year disadvantage it puts me at, I am seriously finding it hard to regard it so. The gradual complication of things, which makes a matter seem more complicated than it actually is. The incessant need to scavenge for a prominent scapegoat and not an actual solution when a problem surfaces. The over-dependence and abuse of the rank structure. The inability to place individuals in their fields of flair. The incompetence of the leader at the fore and his lackeys who serve only to his ridiculous wants. I can go on forever.
Why go into the wee hours discussing a report when it can be done within office hours? Why fight so hard to reduce the punishment for a serviceman when he is just going to disappoint you again? Why put your neck onto the chopping block when the first scapegoat they find would be yourself? Why expend so much effort when they focus more on structure and results rather than plain logic? Trying so hard to look nice on paper as compared to effectiveness and productivity. The flaw is omnipresent. Yet the ones who can make a difference are resisting the need for change just because the previous methods are "tried and tested". The obvious cowards are the ones we rever due to their dubious climb to prominence.
However much I try, I am effectively not a long-stayer. I will do my part and leave. I won't even bother leaving a legacy, not because I can't, but because it's not worth it. I will look back at my NS experience and lament what could have been. The fact stays clear that the various accolades and achievements count for naught with incompetent chiefs at the fore, and the obvious actuality that we are simply not battle-tested.
Thursday, November 6, 2014
Friends. How valued yet fragile. Back then, we never thought that a friendship could end just like that. And no, it wasn't a happy break. However much we promised it would not be, it happened due to money. Somewhat. The gall to accuse us of backstabbing her when we were the ones whom she could rely on the most. We were accepting of her, for who she is. But she chose the road of no return. The friendship was meant to be mutual, yet she does not regard us so. True enough, she has her other circles of friends. True enough, she has her cousins for support. But I can safely say that no one will ever sacrifice for her as much as we do, or go the lengths we were prepared to go. We treated her well, and she chose to forsake our friendship. We were the ones who understood her predicament, could comprehend her actions, and accept her erratic eccentric behaviour. Her bad habits, her incessant traits, we overlooked them. And yet, she did not reciprocate. I am speechless. I truly am.
Sunday, October 12, 2014
I understand now. What they meant back then. How everything I go through now makes me question my passion, direction and diligence towards something that may never be permanent. In fact, what set me on this path? Why must I even subject myself to such disparity in treatment and defend those unworthy of my sympathy? Rank and appointment are arguably tangible, yet they represent a distinct and consecrated responsibility. Or set bluntly, a typical scapegoat. For the sake of pleasing your upper echelons of superiors, you endanger the morale and working attitude of your subordinates, killing their passion effectively and efficiently. I applaud your truly poor aptitude and appreciation of situation while remaining perfectly blasé to your own continuous erring actions. In this organisation where experience counts for nothing due to being amateur in war, I cannot express enough delight at the thought of leaving in opportune time.
Monday, August 11, 2014
I know I always start every post with a song that's stuck in my head, how typical you must be thinking. But who cares, here goes: This time round, it's Classic by MKTO.
"You over my head, I'm out of my mind,
Thinkin' I was born in the wrong time.
One of a kind, livin' in a world gone plastic.
Baby you're so classic."
How quick we have been living; in the blink of an eye and snap of the fingers, I have turned 22, commissioned as an officer, crossed the one year milestone of National Service and lost both my grandmas. It's so bittersweet thinking how fast time really flies when we are caught unaware, happy that our projected sufferings have come to an end, yet sad that we are all growing up so fast and unable to spend more time with our loved ones.
Back in my cadet days, I long for the weekends because that was truly the only time I would be free to spend time with my family and friends. Seeing how we have grown apart as compared to the days of the past makes me really sad knowing that we can never go back or replicate those days anymore. This has and will be the gantry, the gate and the stage of our lives whereby we realise that the future will play out in such fashion from now on. Gone are the days of daily meals, lounging on the sofa simply watching the telly, impromptu meet-ups and good ol' chats. Meet ups have to be planned. Meals as well. We have become so busy because we have found new people, new calling, new priorities that we forsake the ones we have held dear all these while. This is not about playing the blame game, or accusing anyone of anything, but we slowly realise that we can never be able to go back to the classic days of old anymore.
Tuesday, May 20, 2014
Returning home after twenty days of less-than-gruelling training in the chilly environment of Southern Taiwan, I was not prepared for the heartbreaking news that long awaited me, even when I first dialled home on the 8th of May. I remember calling home that day due to a hiatus in between my summary exercises 1 and 2, all ready to spring my parents a surprise call after ten days of separation. The call went through smoothly, and I delivered all I had bottled up for the past week, not forgetting to wish my dad for his birthday, which coincidentally fell on that same day. Never did it occur to me how extraordinary it actually was that my entire family was available on the phone on a Thursday afternoon. Given the relative buzz of study and work, their schedules are practically full week in week out. In fact, they were actually carrying grandma's ashes out of the columbarium at the moment when my call came. I learnt that my aunt was frantically forbidding of my parents to break the news to me, given that my training would be thus disrupted. I have no idea if it was a coincidence or simply the work of heavens, that I had called right when the proceedings were coming to an end.
Upon my arrival back to Singapore, my parents finally broke the news to me on the 18th of May, twelve days after her passing. She had finally succumbed to a long fight with renal failure and a case of hypertension. However prepared I was for this, I could not help it when tears welled up in my eyes. I could not accept the cold hard truth that grandma was gone for good. As I type on displaying a composed demeanour, I know I must stay strong because she wouldn't want us to grieve for too long. I could say that she was more prepared for this than anyone else. She must have had a nightmare of sorts because she stated that she did not want her ashes to be scattered into the sea for fear of being eaten by fishes. She even had a joint-fund ready much earlier because she knew that the funeral expenses were pretty steep, which came in handy when the time finally came. Her final place next to grandpa in Aljunied was already in process of development bar for the pictures because she had already prepared for her own when grandpa passed on more than twenty years ago. What else can we do but applaud the sheer strength and willpower she had, that pure heart that was never afraid of death, who took it all in her stride.
I know I will never really get over the loss of grandma, given that it is the first time I have lost someone so dear to me. And the exact coincidence that this had to happen when I was overseas, that I did not even have the chance to pay my last respects. How unfilial it was of me that I did not make time to visit her more often. Regret will always linger on in the back of my mind. The thousands and thousands of "what ifs" will always play back, coming back to haunt me everytime. What if I had just spent more time with her? What if I had made an effort to make her recognise me even with her senile dementia? What if we had given in to her requests to smoke, not knowing it would be her last? What if we didn't act like cowards and run off everytime she wanted a smoke and made a scene?
Day 49 will then allow me to pay my last respects to her, whom I presume is in a better place now, without the pain, hurt or regret. She is finally back together with grandpa after being separated for all those years. She can finally smile in heaven now. The days of suffering are over. But I know I will miss her so much. The grandma who never fails to protect us from the unforgiving cane when we get naughty at times. The grandma who gets up so early to prepare our favourite lor bak when we visit on the weekends. The grandma who showers us with so much love until she contracted senile dementia. The grandma who never fails to "upsize" our red packets even when she does't have enough for herself. Thank you ma ma, for all that you are. You would have been ninety-seven this year. I love you and you will be dearly missed. Rest in peace.
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| Mdm Lee Ker Teu 1917-2014 Although death has separated us physically Faith and love have bound us eternally. Though we cannot see you We know you are here with us in our every thought as we think about you each day. Though we cannot touch you We feel the warmth of your smile As we turn the page to a new chapter in our lives. |
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| One of the rare occasions I actually see her smile. |
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| Taken on one of our visits with dad. |
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