When I grow up

Was at the gym last week working on my non-existent abs when I saw one of the instructors teaching a dance-cum-aerobic-cum-dunnowatchamacallit class.

She seemed to be enjoying herself, which makes me wonder… How many of us are actually making a living doing what we love to do?

Don’t get me wrong, I love my job, it’s just that it’s nowhere near where I thought I'll be when I’m all grown up.

You know those essays we wrote in primary school about our ambitions, hopes and dreams? Hell, come to think of it, I can’t even remember what I wanted to be when I grow up. If my memory doesn’t serve me wrong, it should be somewhere along the line of an air stewardess, doctor or psychologist (I watch a lot of TV during those days. Even now).

Most of us have jobs to make ends meet so since we're at it, we might as well learn to enjoy the ride. After all, we spend an average of 50% of our waking hours at work (well, maybe this just applies to me), 5 days a week (6 for me), thus life would be quite miserable if you hate your job.

But if that day comes when you found something you love to do which can actually afford to fill your stomach, put the clothes on your back and a roof on your head, good for you.

As for me, I’m still looking for that dream job, if there ever is one.

“The man who does not work for the love of work but only for money is not likely to make money nor find much fun in life.” – Charles Schwab

Keepin' the faith,

In the moment

The words we say during the spur of the moment, during the heat of the argument, do they still count the next day?

If they don’t mean anything, then why do we say those words in the first place?

Are these words the pent up feelings that have been kept inside all these while, waiting for the right moment to come out in the open?

I guess only the person who has, in fact, said the words will know the answers to the above questions.

Personally, I say the things I said and do the things I do during moments of anger are mostly done out of spite. On occasions, I do regret my actions about 30 seconds later but my ego always holds me back from eating my words.

And to that someone who thought that I have no temper at all, well, as I’ve always told you, you are absolutely wrong.

But I have to admit that it takes a lot to push my button (on a normal day) but somehow or rather this particular person seems to have the knack of doing it. At times I wonder if the problem lies within me or that person or simply just that when two particular person who is so damn f**king stubborn and refuses to back down come together that problem arise.

“Half the world is composed of people who have something to say and can't, and the other half who have nothing to say and keep on saying it.” – Robert Frost

Just as I am,

S.S.D.D.

Same sh*t, different day

I thought I have something to write about today but then there was this niggling doubt at the back of my mind that I have already touched on this topic somewhere, somehow. And true enough, after looking back through my previous entries, there it was, staring right back at me.

You know the feeling whereby you felt as if you have experienced the exact same situation before, with the exact same person at the exact same place and the exact same time? The sense of déjà vu never fails to amaze me.

However, recently, I have serious doubts that my ‘déjà vu’s are merely just, well, a feeling because of late, I felt as if my memory is failing me. The following are stuff that I do at the very least once every day and can repeat itself numerous times throughout the day:

(1) Before stepping out of my front door, I feel this urge to check whether I had actually turned off the iron. 9.5 out of 10 times when I checked, the iron has already been switched off but I still feel the need to re-check it before leaving the apartment.

(2) After getting out of my car and locking the doors, I will counter-check whether they are really locked by pulling one of the door handles. Even after this action, when I am 30 feet away from the car, I still feel the impulse to press the ‘lock/unlock’ button – just to make sure. Sometimes I even go to the extent of walking back to the car.

(3) I have this habit of leaving my mobile phone in the car and oftentimes while I’m driving, I will keep reminding myself not to forget it when I get out of the car. But still, it happens.

I’m quite sure that the world will not come to a screeching halt if I didn’t do any of the above actions one day and yet I feel really restless not doing them.

Good Lord, I think I may have OCD.

And before I bid adieu, a totally irrelevant quote, simply because I find it amusing:

“My wife is a sex object – every time I ask for sex, she objects.” – Les Dawson

Getting my head checked,