9/07/2009
"You don't talk to me!"

On a lark, on the way back from the dentist over the weekend, I craved for something from Conti's. I ended up buying cashew brownies, and it somehow reminds me of Milo.

It's the latest observation I've made lately. The rest, well, I can't remember. It's definitely a downside to having another long weekend - you get less alert on the first two days, and then lose everything else when the third kicks in. It's partly why I don't like holidays, although I appreciate them when they come by. But not in this case.

We've had four holidays in the past six weeks. Two are long scheduled, and with all due respect, two were declared as a reaction to prominent deaths. (Whether the intention is political, I'll never bother knowing.) My line of work means I feel a bit humiliated at the amount of holidays we're getting, to the point that an email of mine had sounded slightly apologetic: "we have another holiday, unfortunately." I shouldn't have, you might say.

And to complicate things, this holiday was somehow taken back. Ahh, rash decisions. But I'm still here, blogging rather than catching up on Lost.

The funny thing is, once the holiday is over, we return to the same old things. A part of me will be happy that I'll be fairly productive again - and this week, more so - but a part of me will be frustrated that all this preparation for the working week will go nowhere, somehow. Same old, same old. We're still stressed, still burnt, still going nowhere, still wondering why we're being punished for pushing pencils with all we've got. Gone is the allure of the long wait, the knowledge that on the other end is something that you'll surely relish, or the complete opposite - pretty much like the week between graduation and my first day at work. Nothing left to anticipate.

As for the rest, well, life's gone somewhere. Strobe lights at night, on the runway, taking off for further opportunities, becoming so much better, so much better than those who don't deserve an inch, two years to count, whatever. Must be the cocky nature of the world's most successful backstabbers.

And your responses...

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