tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31889532012-01-25T12:20:30.075+08:00Ramblings and pinings of a charged-up freelance writer / project manager / accidental triathlete in Melbourne, Australia. (previously Munich & Singapore)Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.comBlogger3941100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-16388431973669848952012-01-25T12:17:00.001+08:002012-01-25T12:20:30.084+08:00

A typical afternoon in the middle of the week in January 2012. Going back one, two or three years, where would I have guessed I would be today? In an office outside of Melbourne managing projects of a even grander scale than before? Waking up early at 5:30am to go for runs around the neighbourhood, then driving an hour to get to work every day, listening to downloaded Podcasts along the way,

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-51982604148963801892011-11-22T06:42:00.000+08:002011-11-22T07:21:08.690+08:00

coup [koo] noun, plural coups [kooz; Fr. koo] a highly successful, unexpected stroke, act, or move; a clever action or accomplishment. It's been a roller coaster start to my life in Melbourne -- it's been mostly thrilling. It's been an amazing year so far; to top it all off, yesterday I scored one of the biggest coups in my life so far -- I secured my first job in Melbourne, and what a job!

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-80191716104093476232011-09-30T22:30:00.000+08:002011-10-05T17:35:21.635+08:00

Date: Fri, Sep 30, 2011 at 11:31 AM  Subject: Farewell from A Dear Colleagues and Friends,  After more than 2 years, today will be my last day in A Dept. I will be leaving Singapore and relocating to Melbourne, Australia.  My time in A Dept has been some of the best years of my career so far, and I've enjoyed this job tremendously. I would like to thank you for being the amazing colleagues

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-80912005470526445082011-09-27T08:39:00.000+08:002011-09-27T09:26:06.116+08:00

This changes everything. I'd been anxious about my visa. I'd previously been assured by the case officer that it would be approved in September, and on the strength of that assumption, I had resigned from my job here, packed up everything, shipped the boxes, bought my air ticket to Melbourne, said my goodbyes. And so I kept waiting for my visa, and still it did not come. I was getting anxious

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-44266223760677891852011-09-07T16:35:00.001+08:002011-09-07T16:49:22.725+08:00

I vacillate between wishing time would go faster and slower. Sometimes I get impatient about leaving this place. It seems dreary, like something I have to endure. I want the new life sooner, or immediately. It seems like I've been waiting for it for too long, and I'm fed up waiting for it. And then there are moments when the present seems to move in slow motion; I observe every detail of the

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-77242519866119197982011-09-07T13:12:00.000+08:002011-09-07T16:43:34.481+08:00

It's difficult to focus on the future. The past is strangely vivid, the present is fleeting, but the future is merely a conjecture. The future is like a diffused image, unfocussed; it is furtive, remains in the region just beyond the mind's grasp. I thought about focussing on the future after my swim today. It's difficult to talk about what's ahead because I'm the only leaving, I'm surrounded by

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-8520325236287020432011-09-06T15:03:00.000+08:002011-09-07T09:41:37.379+08:00

Lunchtime talking with Eric is often insightful. Amidst the banal conversation, occassionally some nuggets of wisdom stand out. Today he said to me, "Don't focus on what you're going to miss, focus on what's ahead." True, I replied, but I don't have a job that I can be excited about. "So, focus on getting that job," he said.  But I don't have my visa yet, I said. That's what's holding me up

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-18583801571485458492011-09-06T11:29:00.000+08:002011-09-06T11:34:34.844+08:00

 Over lunch yesterday, I told Michelle that I was feeling blue. "Post-run blues" I said. Maybe because my body was aching from the half-marathon on Sunday morning, maybe because it was raining and maybe because I was leaving soon. "What will you miss?" she asked. And I started to verbally list out my miss-list. For a start, I will miss running with thousands of people. On Sunday, it was a

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-37125394699116264552011-08-25T18:28:00.004+08:002011-08-25T18:31:13.318+08:00

The sky outside looms darkly over the land. The air is colder, even chilly, and I'm tired. Exhausted from a busy day at work. Exhausted because my eyesight has not fully stabilised after the Lasik surgery. Tired and cold, and the combination makes me blue. Maybe because the weekend is almost upon me. Tomorrow, the whole department is going offsite for a full-day "Communications Day". So today

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-72617598425137928912011-08-19T14:43:00.010+08:002011-08-25T18:24:49.214+08:00

Friday afternoon in the office, and I'm exhausted. I'd just gone upstairs to drink a coffee, a kopi C kosong (from coffee beans roasted with butter, with evaporated milk and no sugar). I'd taken the elevator up to the sixth floor, paid S$1 for it, and went to sit on the hot and humid rooftop on a dingy faded-blue plastic chair under one of those tables with a big umbrella that stuck out from the

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-36106696165462050612011-07-25T09:36:00.005+08:002011-07-25T09:40:19.688+08:00

I went into his room and closed the door. His face betrayed a curious and slightly fearful look, his facial muscles tensed up. I said to him, I want to discuss with you the plans for the next few months. He looked visibly more relaxed.I could feel my heart beating louder, but I pushed the thought aside. I felt more in control. I'd rehearsed this speech, and today I felt fresh and light. I was in

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-66938634445098658462011-05-26T14:49:00.009+08:002011-07-26T09:00:24.366+08:00

Lunch with Naville today was a brief affair. We met at the food court, and he got me to sit down at a small round table next to the big glass wall, while he went to buy wanton mee and iced honey lime for both of us.The wanton mee came in a smallish plate but it was delicious, not oily unlike from most other places. Of course, we're in the hospital -- they must serve healthy food, I thought.I told

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-19375594128997402322011-04-29T15:19:00.000+08:002011-04-29T15:20:22.675+08:00

Naville said to me over lunch yesterday: "You're going down a road I've never gone before. Sorry, I cannot lead you down this path."I replied: "It's okay, I'll find my way."

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-4788146133457683382011-04-20T14:46:00.002+08:002011-04-20T14:51:05.401+08:00

"Pain is easy to write. In pain, we're all drably individual. But what can one write about happiness?" ~ The End of the Affair, Graham GreeneI realised during my morning swim today that I sabotaged myself by allowing myself to turn sentimental, as I did the last two days. Dwelling on the past and the upcoming changes in life left me physically and emotionally drained. I walked more slowly, I

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-64955055155904986122011-04-19T16:32:00.004+08:002011-04-19T16:37:18.525+08:00

Wolfgang wrote to me yesterday: "Do not be too sentimental. Life in Singapore or at your company goes on even without you".It's true that during periods of change, I often turn sentimental, perhaps even melancholic. I'm getting sentimental now, for example, thinking how today is the second last day that C's at work in Singapore. It's her final week at work, and after today, she'll report for work

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-3940781884762085632011-04-18T17:22:00.014+08:002011-04-18T21:35:32.111+08:00

It's a strange day today. Coming out of a rather staid weekend -- mostly grey weather, mostly staying at home -- it's a shock to the system somewhat.First off, during the last few weeks I'd planned in my mind that my tenure in Singapore will last till end August. I'd been playing scenarios in my head of what I'd do in that interim period when C was far away and I was left to my own devices. I

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-84249225077030641222011-04-06T08:48:00.002+08:002011-04-06T13:30:03.769+08:00

Politics -- that's what I love about project management. The focussing of human resources towards a common goal. The persuasion, the convincing, the manipulating. It feels great when the team is motivated, they're eager for more, they're hungry for results. It's great to hear reconciliatory language after a tough negotiation session.But politics is also the reason for hating project

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-21822586400974499812011-03-29T08:32:00.007+08:002011-03-29T09:07:43.543+08:00

You don't ask, you don't get, I said to myself shortly before knocking on the door of the Head of Department (HOD). I went in to his room, took the seat diagonal to him, smiled and said I just wanted to check with him whether there's any update for the job title change he talked to me about some weeks ago. "It's now end of March, and we said the change will happen before 1st April," I added. He

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-71037450401916028892011-02-10T18:41:00.006+08:002011-02-10T19:03:22.987+08:00

I wrote an e-mail today to the RC2011 CNY (Recreation Committee 2011 Chinese New Year) team to give them an update on the rabbit fridge magnets we were purchasing to distribute to each employee of the company. Towards the end of the e-mail, I added:"Another update:- I will be withdrawing from RC2011 after this CNY event, and will be replaced by another colleague from my department- currently the

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-76438836263237418852011-02-07T16:49:00.006+08:002011-02-08T13:48:56.851+08:00

During my one-week Chinese New Year break in Kuching last week, the entire focus and paradigm of my life shifted.Up till the day before the break, my mind was still focussed on my current job, my ongoing projects, the department Team-Building Event in Bintan which I'd organized and led. Up until then, the focus was on the here and now, the status quo and the little strategies on improving my

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-40741584435816470022010-11-24T17:50:00.007+08:002010-11-25T22:37:15.812+08:00

During lunch with Neil today, Roy suddenly appeared. He came into the restaurant with two colleagues and sat down near the entrance. They were still there when we finished our meal, paid and got up to leave.Roy was my big boss Wong's henchman at my last company; he was a quiet and nice chap, but due to my occasional scuffles with Wong back then, Roy and I too had a bit of history. So I was

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-29898142765819420952010-11-21T06:52:00.005+08:002010-11-25T22:38:57.439+08:00

Last night, my Facebook Status Update read:If only every Saturday were this wonderful.Kay commented:Tell me about it:)I did:Pre-dawn 10km run to the beach and back, restful rest of the day in the apartment while the thunderstorm raged outside as I enjoyed an unhurried day of reading and recovering, followed by sunset biking with some excellent company to the beach, ending with smooth golden beer

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-18539430958295800242010-11-16T17:13:00.004+08:002010-11-25T22:39:34.768+08:00

Joy told me early on Monday morning that she was having Monday blues."I don't see why it's blue", I chirped in reply, "It'a fantastic week ahead! Wednesday's a public holiday, isn't it? So it's 1 day of work plus 1 Friday, then 1 more day of work then another Friday. We get TWO Fridays this week."Joy: Actually I'm not a big fan of midweek holidaysMe: But I'm gonna bet that you're a fan of Friday

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-40596197221022694582010-11-08T12:00:00.001+08:002010-11-08T12:00:13.269+08:00

Real optimism is aware of problems but recognizes solutions; knows about difficulties but believes they can be overcome; sees the negatives, but accentuates the positives; is exposed to the worst but expects the best; has reason to complain, but chooses to smile. ~ William Arthur Ward

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-49608262082181154302010-11-02T15:52:00.003+08:002010-11-25T22:41:36.111+08:00

Today I called Marc a "contrarian". I came across the word while reading some weeks ago, and that struck me as a pretty good word for Marc. He asked me to explain."You delight in making statements that are contrary to what others are saying," I said simply. That shut him up for so long (couple of minutes) that even though Ethan and I continued the conversation over our pizza lunch, I started to

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-27207970673395532842010-11-01T16:06:00.008+08:002010-11-01T16:12:24.181+08:00

In the middle of lunch today, Gilbert interrupted and asked me to explain again why I enjoyed my job and life right now. I paused, swallowed and rested the cream-coloured chopsticks on the bowl of kimchi ramen in front of me."It's true", I began as I looked up, "I love my job". Paused. "I love my job", I said it again.It's about finding a job that matches your personality, I told him. I enjoy

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-63211651899026925012010-10-25T13:40:00.006+08:002011-09-06T11:48:49.511+08:00

Grant was his usual funny self over lunch today, despite the moody weather.When I suggested to him that at his career level, he didn't need to earn a MBA any longer -- "wouldn't really help that much," I said -- he joked that he'd been lucky in his career so far, and that it probably mattered even more to back up the level that he's at now. It was an interesting viewpoint that I hadn't

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-63109032471104428462010-08-19T10:16:00.001+08:002010-08-19T10:16:45.045+08:00

Joy said 'Good morning' over chat the other day. And asked how my weekend went. "Fantastic!" I replied, with a smiley. "That's what I love about you," she quipped, "You're always in a good mood". "Why not?" I replied again, "Life is short; I'd rather spend my days in a good mood than any other moods there are out there. hehehe..." I wasn't always like this, was I? And despite all endeavours to

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-57355776510638281952010-07-12T13:37:00.003+08:002010-07-12T13:56:47.544+08:00

It must be all the news about Europe lately, and how well Die Mannschaft performed at the Weltmeisterschaft (FIFA World Cup). Or the clear blue skies with light fluffy clouds, rays of sunshines streaming through them. Reminders.And the fatigue. Fatigue from watching the late night games in South Africa. Fatigue from studying for the PMP exams.Mentally tired, mentally weak, and so at such times,

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-52758007704534618242010-05-03T11:52:00.004+08:002010-11-01T16:42:52.900+08:00

Muscles aching, head heavy, movements slow.As much as I tried to summon and focus on it, enthusiam alone just wasn't going to be enough to carry me cheerfully into the new month. It was time to try something else.First, I hit the coffee machine. As soon as I arrived at work, I made a strong cup of coffee, adding a dash of milk from my refrigerated carton of Magnolia High-Calcium Low-Fat. The

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-33994966660234956702010-04-27T16:10:00.004+08:002010-11-01T16:45:10.360+08:00

Today, I went out for lunch with Ken and Oliver. It was a bit of a drive over to my previous company to fetch them, but they'd been over to meet me for lunch several times now, and had been teasing me that I wasn't reciprocating.The drive to my old office took me through some familiar roads, past familiar factory and warehouse buildings, and I saw familiar faces walking around the industrial

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-83026227082381073312010-04-25T23:59:00.003+08:002010-11-01T16:46:46.114+08:00

I'm excited about my job. It was a great week last week, and although I've had a great weekend away in Malacca, work was never far from my mind. I mean this in a good way -- although that's hardly conventional.On the 4-hour bus ride to and from Malacca, I'd whipped out the thin yellow book Ahn had passed to me on Friday. "FISH!" -- the title loudly proclaimed, and it had a cute 2-Dimensional

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-74333032352004681842010-04-23T16:49:00.002+08:002010-04-25T20:56:33.717+08:00

I feel like crying. The strange thing is I don't really know why. There isn't any over-arching compelling reason to cry -- I just feel that way.There's a sadness lingering over me, pressing down heavily on my chest. I can guess at the reasons, they're irrational, but I suppose that's the way emotions are.The first reason is probably the simplest -- it's time for goodbye. Ahn has just sent out his

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-27753436135919713012010-04-21T21:12:00.008+08:002010-04-21T21:29:36.132+08:00

I've suddenly become productive at work. Just like that, the Sluggish Sloth has slithered off somewhere, and here I am, all gung-ho, can-do spirit, and raring to make the project run, challenge conventions, break the rules, get results.I've suddenly become motivated.If I'm forced to guess how this happened, I'm gonna bet on that early morning run. It's the most useful 31 minutes 40 seconds I

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-47407956160527075062010-04-21T14:27:00.001+08:002010-04-21T14:27:14.945+08:00

After lunch today, I thought about what my project team. Something was missing -- I felt that. I could even describe it, albeit a little vaguely:   "It doesn't feel like we're a team," I was telling Ahn. "It feels like we're just a collection of different functions".   Which led to me ask myself: What's missing? What can I do better? What could I do to become a great Project Manager?   My first

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-1462994148531090922010-04-21T09:48:00.002+08:002011-02-08T13:57:44.404+08:00

It's funny, you know. It's just one run, and you feel a world of difference.Or rather, I feel like out of this world -- I'm a different person, a better person. I walk into the office all smiley, and then I start smiling at colleagues, talking to them in the pantry -- and there's just a happy buzz all over.Could be something to do with the light blue sky too, although that's almost certainly

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-54197274034368286512010-04-20T23:47:00.004+08:002010-04-21T00:00:45.065+08:00

Before I turn off the lights and go to bed, it would be nice to pen a paean to today. After all, today will never happen again. It's passing swiftly from the present to the past. And just as swiftly, my memory of it shall soon begin to fade.Nothing of great significance happened today. I woke up, tried to go running but cancelled it due to the lightning. Then I went to work. I had lunch with Ahn

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-86636452891683327322010-04-20T22:50:00.009+08:002010-04-20T23:12:38.223+08:00

The rainy season is upon us. It's actually not so much rainy as lightning-y. I woke up this morning intent on a run to shake off the spate of lingering gloom that's attached itself to my days lately.But there was lightning, and the sky was threatening to unleash a storm. And so, the recent spurts of runs lately has not yet caught traction.It does feel gloomy lately -- it feels like there are

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-49200284761020050742010-04-14T08:55:00.001+08:002010-04-20T23:43:40.424+08:00

I love the smell of a good coffee early in the morning. I don't necessarily have to drink it, the smell is the thing that gets me going.It's a sunny day today, and I'm feeling stronger than I've been in weeks. That's because for the past few weeks, I've been living in some kind of haze. A haze set about due to at first flu, then a sore throat and fever.I should rephrase that: I feel healthier

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-7076472038210304582010-04-13T17:37:00.004+08:002010-04-20T23:43:57.591+08:00

I've been sluggish at work yesterday and today. One of those days when I hardly cross out a single item on my To Do List, and just feel like leaving the office when the official knock-off time arrives.There's a combination of reasons for this -- I'm just recovering from my illness (still have one or two of those yellow antibiotics pills to swallow), the weather's rather gloomy -- but most of all,

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-49639580676208901212010-04-11T23:22:00.010+08:002010-04-11T23:42:06.043+08:00

It was a bizarre weekend. I fell gravely ill on Thursday afternoon, and after a visit to the doctor, suffered throughout Thursday night all the way till Friday noon, with no end in sight for my pain.It was a sore throat. A puny part of my body, but the pain was unbearable. Much like a toothache, it's just a small part of me, and looking in the mirror, I looked all right. But it was hurting so

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-68401365080650426232010-04-07T15:07:00.002+08:002010-04-20T23:44:47.452+08:00

In the middle of my office cubicle wall hangs a 2010 calendar with photos of Munich. This month, the picture is one of the Hofgarten.Just the name "Munich" provokes a deep sigh for me. A sigh of nostalgia, of longing, a sigh of remembering.In this picture, the grass of the Hofgarten and the low rectangular hedges lining the pathways are a shade of spring green. The air is crisply cool, and I'm in

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-30967224794795819362010-04-07T14:26:00.002+08:002010-04-20T23:45:25.749+08:00

One of the saddest things in life is losing a friend. The loss of friendship comes in many forms -- some leave the world, some migrate to another country, and some simply move on to another company.In an island as small as Singapore, having a friend move on to another job doesn't typically trigger much anguish. The friend is still "around" anyway, and modern life offers numerous ways to stay in

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-7248722896313359752010-03-15T13:31:00.001+08:002010-03-15T13:31:15.637+08:00

Found out an hour ago that I'll have to miss out on the Osim Triathlon on 10 March -- made a mistake in booking an exam date on the same day. All throughout lunchtime, I was raging about it to my lunch buddies.   After lunch, I wrote to Jay: "Funny...Half year ago, you'd have to drag me to a marathon/triathlon.Now, I'm so worked up that I'll be missing one!"   I've become addicted, obsessed with

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-85709195484509239832010-03-12T11:10:00.002+08:002010-04-20T23:45:48.461+08:00

After my post-probationary interview, I was asked to fill in some comments regarding how I'm feeling about my job.Still pumped with endorphins from this morning's swim, and the additional happiness that it's Friday and a bright sunny clear day, (oh, and the fact that the company is sponsoring us on yet another triathlon event!), I couldn't have written a more glowing review.This must be how job

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-76571228238401898372010-03-10T10:09:00.001+08:002010-03-10T10:09:42.176+08:00

At long last, it started raining. Out the window, I could see the ground below glistening with rainwater, as people dash about with umbrellas, a cyclist going by in a poncho. Altogether, an unfamiliar sight. It's not rained for over a month now in Singapore, and grass was turning brown, some patches were even black from the bushfires that were sporadically starting all over the island. And so,

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-3270218471560612722010-03-10T09:50:00.001+08:002010-03-10T09:50:25.101+08:00

"The thing about change," I was telling C, "is that it must come from within." Somebody else can try to impose what they think is best for you, and have a world of good intentions behind it -- but it's still coercion, and it's still their agenda. I'll play ball, but I'm only doing it because I have to, not because I want to. And so it can be rest assured that this charade won't be any fun for

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-52280641762116568402010-03-07T23:41:00.006+08:002010-03-08T00:11:09.913+08:00

It was a slow weekend. We watched some movies on TV, some episodes of Law & Order SVU, I went for a sunrise morning run, we went for a run at the gym, read the weekend editions of the Straits Times, had lunch at Ikea, went cycling along the beach. Then we prepared our sandwiches, ironed work shirts, prepared for the coming work week.The sort of weekend that slows down the pace by a few notches,

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-28550270103446266132010-03-04T10:15:00.001+08:002010-03-04T10:15:09.655+08:00

This morning's 4km was tough. Already at the 1.5km mark, my mind considered allowing myself to walk once I hit the 2km turn-around point. Instead, I slowed my pace, and kept on going. The final 1km was tough, and it was the sort of finishing that I wouldn't have been able to make without Nike Plus counting down the final 400m for me.   It's been a while since my last long run. In fact,

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-33359490625463940022010-02-09T17:11:00.000+08:002010-02-09T17:18:25.244+08:00

At the end of the teleconference, I reminded him that we will be skipping next week's weekly call.   "It's due to Chinese New Year," I said. "Yesss yesss yesss", he replied in his thick French-accented English. "Therefore I've already cancelled next week's meeting in the calendar."   Then he asked me, "What year will it be next year?" "Year of the Tiger", I replied. "It's going to be a good year.

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-43713506927653435652010-02-09T09:52:00.001+08:002010-02-09T09:52:20.039+08:00

Woke up at 6am, rushed to dress and then was out of the house in a jiffy. Drove to Novena Square, parked, walked into California Fitness, locked my bags in the locker room -- and found that oops, I've forgotten to bring my work shirt!!!   Went on the treadmill anyway, showered and found -- oops, left my briefs at home. Drove home, showered again (was covered in perspiration again), had breakfast

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-84300053769635485812010-02-08T08:58:00.001+08:002010-02-08T08:58:19.938+08:00

I swam today for the first time this year, and it felt great. When I arrived at the pool, the lifeguard saw me and gave a shriek of surprise. He got up from his seat and shook my hand – I was so surprised that I said: "Happy New Year", hehe.   Checking my records in Running-Log.com, my last swim was in November last year, a good three months ago! Since then, I've gone on to run the Standard

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-22701279199905487622010-01-19T10:44:00.002+08:002010-01-24T22:10:11.482+08:00

Sometimes, exercise can be bad for you. I must have over-stretched myself during the 13km cross-country run at Mac Ritchie Reservoir last Sunday. It's Tuesday today, and I'm still recovering. Whoa!!! I woke up refreshed this morning, and actually came to work much more cheerful than my semi-grouchy self yesterday, but I seem to have run out of steam again, so early in the day! Gonna take it easy

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-56926990418355620262010-01-14T13:29:00.004+08:002010-01-14T20:57:49.781+08:00

I worked until 8pm last night. The days of being thoroughly absorbed in my work is back. It's manifesting itself in various ways: the longer working hours, the way the clock seems to jump ahead everytime I look at it, my pace of walking in the office -- rushing to the pantry or restroom and back, usually with a work document in my hand, or a pen that I've absent-mindedly forgotten to leave at my

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-60466390723306016842010-01-11T15:56:00.000+08:002010-01-12T21:58:23.178+08:00

Late last week, the e-mails started to trickle in. I scanned through them, didn't get the meaning yet. Today, the issue escalated, and some key tasks are on hold -- pending a major decision. Stress has returned to my worklife. It's been slow the past few weeks. Last week, I'd wanted to start the new year right by keeping to a new work ethic, being more disciplined and focussed at work. A lot of

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-44767577263083793382010-01-11T09:53:00.000+08:002010-01-12T21:56:32.564+08:00

Seated next to us on the Silkair flight to Phuket was a stocky 40-something Caucasian lady. She had a brand new shiny book with an attractive crimson cover. For most of the flight, it remained lodged in the seat pocket in front of her, as she paged through her equally new magazines. She wore a loose khaki blouse and had dark blonde hair which was cropped around her shoulder and held in place by a

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-77164535072474769352010-01-10T22:06:00.006+08:002010-01-10T22:13:40.143+08:00

Leaf says: you always go see sunset in singapore?Why8 says: lately, I've been seeing more sunrises than sunsets it's a happier thing to watch the sun riseLeaf says: go watch alone? impossible! Why8 says: i watch the sunrise alone it's quite a lovely thing the air is cool and fresh the world is just stirring to life the first birds take flight and slowly in the East, it gets brighter, bit by

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-91793430015224711352010-01-08T10:25:00.001+08:002010-01-10T14:38:43.022+08:00

It's a cheery day. Not least due to the wonders of technology: Sms birthday greetings have been coming in since yesterday. The ubiquity of handphones has made sending a Birthday greeting both easy and affordable. My "Wall" on Facebook has not seen so much activity for the whole year, and of course, they're all birthday greetings. It's nice to be remembered, even if it isn't the same thing as

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-47910670866980934192010-01-04T08:52:00.000+08:002010-01-05T07:20:44.630+08:00

The air of cheeriness in the office was unmistakeable, the pantry was filled with giggles as the ladies compared their new "looks". Several of them have shortened their hair, dyed their hair too.It had drizzled earlier on, as I was breakfasting at home, but the drizzle slowed as we drove along the highway. As I walked to the office after parking the car, the air was cool and I had a spring in my

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-84382060162841955332009-12-09T09:40:00.015+08:002009-12-09T09:53:56.312+08:00

I started my day today with a 5km run.The air was cool when I started at 6:10am, and I'd worn my Standard Chartered Marathon singlet, which made it cooler than usual. It felt good to stretch my legs again. Actually I really enjoyed it when I hit the 1km mark, the cool air somehow makes me feel like I'm taking a long cool shower... I'm starting to think about the next event. Actually, that's not

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-49851625282347146082009-12-08T13:26:00.000+08:002009-12-08T13:27:04.820+08:00

Out of the blue, Jan smsed me this morning. That's her style.She wrote: "Muz realli commend u. From the time where I saw u struggling on treadmill to now completing a ten km in 69 mins. Well done. Vast improvement. Bravo"Vast improvement -- what a nice compliment. That's certainly a happy thought for today, yay!

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-80155754886401857472009-12-07T16:22:00.003+08:002009-12-07T16:25:07.869+08:00

Mic wanted to know how my Standard Chartered Singapore Marathon run went.It was a lot more than this, but I thought I'd spare her every detail, so I wrote a simple summary:My 10km run was a heck of a lot of fun! The run itself was tough due to the humidity (fortunately no rain or direct sunlight, just cloudy skies), and also it was tiring to avoid other runners. The run up to the top of the

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-89341669200313518372009-12-04T17:26:00.006+08:002009-12-04T17:31:05.943+08:00

A flighty feeling. And once again, a Friday. How many Fridays feel like this, I wonder. Maybe every Friday for the rest of my life. At least my working life.I'd just finish an email to Win. I'd told him that I'm withdrawing from the mass e-mail circle that we've both been a part of since 2002, because:"I'm gonna go for quality discussions versus quantity from now on. Before, I was working on the

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-28297746419727400832009-12-03T11:33:00.014+08:002009-12-03T14:46:05.909+08:00

I didn't run today. I woke up as usual when the alarm clock rang at 6am, got up, but felt rather tired out physically. It's been two days since I ran my longest distance ever (7km), but maybe my body is still recovering. Tomorrow morning, I want to go for 8km, and then rest on Saturday before my first-ever 10km this Sunday at the Singapore Marathon.When I started my first run back in June this

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-4477632905277322132009-11-30T09:49:00.005+08:002009-11-30T16:02:22.246+08:00

One of the most enjoyable pleasures when hosting foreign guests is seing familiar things afresh through foreign eyes.I'd brought Wolfgang and his wife Bee to Song Kheng Hai Stadium in Kuching for "special" ice kacang and chendol. After braving the sudden heavy downpour ("tropical thunderstorm" said Wolfgang) to dash from the car to the hawker centre, we sat down and I went around to the stalls to

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-60590437112322451272009-11-24T14:21:00.001+08:002009-11-25T14:30:58.423+08:00

As I strolled around the shopping mall, my mind was calm, almost Zen-like. I'd just finished a Roast Beef Sandwich (290 Calories) at Subway, and now I just wanted to stroll around a bit before I headed back to the office. I stopped by G2000 and looked at the rows of neatly pressed workshirts, my fingers reaching out to feel the soft material. There was a 15% discount if I paid for it with my UOB

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-26551832737690593012009-11-19T17:07:00.002+08:002009-11-30T16:30:22.490+08:00

Rain. So much rain. I ran away from Europe to escape winter depression, and here I am in Singapore, hit by a deja vu of it. (Well, at least I get to joke about it, and there's no sense of helplessness due to a major language barrier.)There's dinner tonight, with Eugene and his wife -- we'll be toasting with French wine and cheese, apparently. An authentic French dinner by French cooks in

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-49323913639445203432009-11-16T17:26:00.002+08:002009-11-16T22:16:31.433+08:00

"In death, we celebrate life," I muttered to myself.I had just come off the phone with Wolfgang. He's still coming for the holiday, he said. Wolfgang's father had suddenly gone into a coma last week, and he'd send me an e-mail last Friday about the news:"Unfortunatelly I have bad newsMy father is in coma and will die in the next few days.As my father was in the hospital at least 6 times this year

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-76230919881556950562009-11-16T13:57:00.004+08:002009-11-30T10:07:23.545+08:00

Our Department Director sent out an e-mail to congratulate our team on our achieving our Project Milestone last Friday (13th Nov)."Thanks for the team work and great contribution from all of you to achieve this excellent result," he wrote.I followed his e-mail by one thanking the team again, and mentioned a celebratory meal later this week.And of course, like any good Project Manager, I had to

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-67546428184448722422009-11-12T17:12:00.006+08:002009-11-30T10:09:04.485+08:00

I told Mich that I wake up at 6am to run."6am???" she wrote in reply. "gosh.. wat time do u sleep at nite??"I responded:sleep at 11 to 11:30pm.Again, 6 mths ago, i'd never have believed i can wake up at 6am to run. But here I am now.Basically i started by waking at 6am to run, even though i was still sleeping at 12 to 1am, then my body protested and i slept early in order to adjust to it.And here

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-38851259226040657352009-11-11T18:55:00.003+08:002009-11-30T10:09:30.996+08:00

Why do I like my job now? - the work is challenging, consequential and meaningful - the salary is reasonable - the colleagues are friendly and interesting - the manager is understanding, patient to coach, very knowledgeable As I told Nick, Winnie and Deb over dinner last Sunday, I have a lot of reasons to be thankful these days. And having a job I enjoy is certainly one of them.

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-16279128667290410372009-11-06T16:49:00.002+08:002009-11-06T23:14:25.051+08:00

Somehow, I tend to write on Friday afternoons. I suppose I write on other days as well, but on Friday afternoons, I very often write about Friday afternoons.I guess it's because it's an ending of sorts. And somehow endings are always tinged with sadness, like a lonely sunset.Or maybe it's the flighty feeling of a relaxing weekend stretched ahead, with so many possibilities, like walking far far

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-42067590361446259392009-10-20T13:50:00.001+08:002009-10-20T13:51:47.880+08:00

There’s a fair chance that I’m high on my flu medication. I’m at least talking funny. I just told D that it’s possible to get high on cow poo. It’s a strange topic. That’s what I said -- I must be high.It’s either that, or I’m just drowsy. I’d just taken 2 pink pills and 1 green one. The pink ones are for reducing throat inflammation, and the green one was to reduce phlegm, or to make it less

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-37623741044020880982009-10-16T17:27:00.000+08:002009-10-16T17:29:25.285+08:00

D asked: “‘Not the place but the person’ – meaning?”“Whether a person will like a place doesn't depend so much on whether the place is nice – it depends more on the person,” I explained.“Actually, to be precise,” I continued, “it depends on the relationship between the person and the place. But as the place is more or less constant and unchanging, it must be the person rather than the place.”I’d

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-53856062729244986122009-10-16T13:54:00.005+08:002009-10-16T14:05:25.329+08:00

Cobbled Pathways, St Paul de Vence, Cote d'Azur, France, July 2007Over lunchtime pizza today, I casually asked JL whether he flew out of Charles de Gaulle airport. He said, no -- from southern France, Nice. And then, he told me where his office was located -- in Sophia-Antipolis.And then, I started gushing about Nice, about the Cours de Saleya Flower Market, the Bay of Angels, Cannes and Monte

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-8919313874446454002009-10-14T10:51:00.002+08:002009-10-14T10:53:15.284+08:00

I hope this isn’t premature. But:I have never…been fitterlooked betterfelt betterbeen happier… in my life!!!So -- this is what happiness feels like.Boy, do I love endorphins! :P

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-56099485841991592392009-10-14T09:48:00.013+08:002009-10-14T10:14:28.407+08:00

Some early Christmas cheer this year: my best friend Win is finally coming to visit! He’s this guy who’s never owned a passport in his entire life, and finally, for his virgin travel out of Malaysia, he’s coming to visit, and bringing his blushing new wife too!I am either on a sugar-high (just ate a large Sunkist orange) or an endorphine-fuelled high, but I sure am euphoric right now.Anyhow, it’s

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-32300748463648487462009-10-12T15:41:00.001+08:002009-10-14T09:57:21.685+08:00

As the Air Asia plane taxied along the runway at Kuching Internation Airport, I started writing. I have my Journal with me during times of commuting and travelling, for when I don't have access to a laptop to blog something.Airports are perfect places to write anyway – you're waiting for your flight, you've browsed every shop in the terminal, visited the toilet once or twice, and you're just

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-64861275857251393412009-10-09T17:17:00.001+08:002009-10-14T09:58:07.818+08:00

"Back when I was in Munich," I was telling Pru, "I used to get blue on Friday afternoons."The sun was setting, I went on, and everyone would be going home, and I'd have nowhere to go. It was a bit lonely.And then I'd have the whole weekend ahead of me. A massive cavernous two days of emptiness, nothingness -- like the feeling of lying down on my double bed in the corner of my cold and dim 37

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-75129405290747625532009-09-22T14:19:00.006+08:002009-10-14T09:59:52.222+08:00

As we walked around Bedok Reservoir that morning, we talked a fair bit. I walked ahead with Pa, and Ma followed behind sometimes catching up such that we three walked abreast, but sometimes she lagged behind a bit. It wasn't hot at all, although it was already 8:00 by the time we arrived there. Could be the haze, but it didn't smell smokey, so that was all right.In the distance, two dragonboats

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-29552795214493428532009-09-17T13:07:00.003+08:002009-10-14T09:59:06.489+08:00

It was a good run today, despite the light rain. My target was 10 rounds, 4 kilometres. At the end, I didn't run all 10 rounds; I walked about 3 rounds - but it was still a good run.On any other day, runs are always good anyway, but today it was especially good. It was good because for the first time since I started running, I didn't go alone. Today, I had Pa with me, and he'd walk with me the

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-75434954748361782372009-09-16T17:38:00.003+08:002009-10-14T09:59:34.402+08:00

Once again, and as so often before, after I wrote again following a long break, I re-read some of my previous entries. --- and was immediately confronted with so much negativity, melancholy, and sadness that I was forced to wonder: what on Earth made me want to prolong my stay in Munich? To stay there, and face the long spells of silence and loneliness, of frustration and huge walls of language

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-71779157235649183752009-09-16T15:26:00.002+08:002011-09-06T15:44:16.689+08:00

At the end of my self-introduction, I wrote: "It's a very pleasant thing to be able to come to work each day excited about the projects, the colleagues and the company, and that I do believe I've found this here." It's a poignant touch to my new beginning, and even at the risk of sounding like a blinkingly-wide-eyed overly idealistic novice, I was thoroughly honest. It came from my almost-daily

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-80614555758761558802009-07-27T15:53:00.001+08:002009-07-27T15:53:39.414+08:00

A wide-eyed adventurer who lives life with great passion, who courageously attempts great things, and thrives in the face of epic challenges.A leader who mentors through both his words and example.A counsellor and friend who prioritises the needs of others above all, even at expense of himself; a confidante who listens and emphatises.An exceller, ambitious in scope, always demanding the best from

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-4481463388615757912009-05-08T14:26:00.000+08:002009-05-08T14:27:47.097+08:00

When the day started for me this morning, I wasn't really looking forward to my Friday. It was to be another day of dreary SPUR training session.Surprisingly, it ended early. And then I went for my swim. Then, the endorphines kicked in, and the Friday was recouped, hurray! During the swim, and the walk back from the pool, I finally figured it out: the difference is "human rights"!!!It's a hidden

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-79626478523038251892009-04-15T14:45:00.001+08:002009-04-15T14:47:33.511+08:00

In the middle of a busy day in the middle of a busy week, I'm thinking about Melbourne. Fernweh, the Germans call it -- the opposite of heimweh, homesickness.My Singapore of today is not as terrifying or half as lonely as my Singapore of early last year. I'm much more at peace here now, but I'm not at home. I've moved now to the East, but I'm still renting a small room in somebody else's home,

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-53571364044356517962009-02-13T17:44:00.001+08:002009-02-13T17:45:14.065+08:00

Feb already, end of yet another week. Can see the narrow daylights lighting up the blinds along the office windows. It's 5:31pm, and I've about an hour of work more to clear before shutting down the laptop. Busy day today, busy week this past week, fire-fighting, emotional low, then a turnaround after a session with a manager, and in the midst of it all, managed to somehow feel oddly

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-855600120397384682008-10-13T17:26:00.007+08:002008-10-13T17:40:15.619+08:00

A Walk to Remember, Isar River, Munich, November 2007 Today, Amy asked me why I missed Europe. She'd seen photos of my weekends island getaway, and loved the photos:Amy: I don't understand why you are always missing Europeyou see Malaysia is a wonderful paradise on earthSo many people like thereWhy8: i've also very nice photos from Munich, you just have not seen them yetEurope is very

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-86690850687098057982008-09-18T23:49:00.001+08:002011-09-06T15:48:37.821+08:00

Wrote last week to a friend who just returned from several years of living in Munich. Just like me at the beginning, she has been having difficulty adapting to Singapore again:...something I read about Hillary Clinton's first speech to her supporters immediately after she lost the Democratic Party's nomination to be the Presidential candidate. Her courageous words encouraged me so much. She of

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-1797974499831921272008-09-09T19:55:00.018+08:002008-09-09T21:44:24.925+08:00

Sunset over Singapore, Singapore, September 2008It's been a while since I watched the sun set over Singapore. It's been a while since I had a moment of silence to myself, stand with squinted eyes, face towards the warm sunshine, body bent over the balcony, carton of soya bean in my right hand, left hand clutching the smooth round stainless-steel railing. Just watching. It's been a while.Most days

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-87937787529524783872008-08-17T21:17:00.001+08:002008-08-17T21:29:00.083+08:00

I sat at my desk, stunned. I didn't understand. I read it again. And again.And then, I switched on Internet Explorer, went to Google.com and googled his name.And there it was, on her blog, the words that confirmed what I just read. She wrote in her blog:"In loving memory of Koh Tshui Khim - Love of my life. Passed away 25 June 2008. Engaged to marriage in 3 months."Goodbye, my friend.******From:

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-71135704101658590352008-06-11T14:46:00.000+08:002008-06-11T16:01:42.981+08:00

Have been learning a lot about regrets lately. After dramatic days covered under a veil of impenetrable gloom, there's always time to laugh at myself.An old Peanuts strip I saved from back in 2007 mirrors my recent state somewhat. Strips like this are so endearingly funny, yet tragically real-life.Mirrors like this are also reminders of how silly we can get sometimes. I'm not sure I've stopped

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-18095569057863828652008-05-22T10:52:00.000+08:002008-05-22T10:56:59.146+08:00

I'm sure I'm being overly melodramatic again. Things can't be this bad.How bad do I feel? Like Elijah, running away to sit under a tree and asking God to let him die.And the theme song playing in my head now goes "Why does the sun go on shining? Why does the sea rush to shore? Don't they know…"*chuckleFunny. It's one of those times when I've to laugh at myself to get through the day.Laugh at how

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-30565195656879927592008-05-22T09:15:00.000+08:002008-05-22T09:23:52.260+08:00

Slept early last night, around 10pm. There was mercifully nothing really interesting on TV, so I could just switch off the lights early, and drift off into dreamland, and not have to face this unwanted reality.Back in the office now, and still groggy, still weak from yesterday's blow. Felt like my spirit was broken. Woke up this morning and asked myself in the mirror as I often do:Am I Bright and

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-901664636145958062008-05-21T17:28:00.000+08:002008-05-21T17:29:36.822+08:00

It came as a dull thud. Not a major peal of lightning, not anything hugely dramatic, but a dull but loud thud. Crept in furtively, via e-mail. Just an innocent little piece sitting there, looking innocent enough. I didn't even realise what it was, just hit an Alt-Tab to switch between windows and there it was already, right in front of me -- the rejection.It came in the middle of a busy part of

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-63506556903811573362008-05-13T16:53:00.001+08:002008-05-13T16:55:34.280+08:00

There's so much I want to write, that the words are screaming to be released here. I've written so much in private but it seems somewhat a travesty not to have released them here.All my struggles to leave Munich, all my struggles as I readjust back to Singapore… all these huge missing chapters in my life. Been unable to write freely, have had to self-censor so much as I can't expose myself to too

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-59624355690492022832008-04-23T08:46:00.000+08:002008-04-23T08:47:44.984+08:00

Physically, I'm here in Singapore, but my heart and my mind is far far away. I'm away already in a happier place, a place where I own a car, and has someone to go driving around the countryside with on weekends. We'd have packed a picnic basket, complete with a bottle of red wine and two wine glasses, driven down to the lake and spread our picnic mat. I'm mentally already there, I just need to

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-21875707291259416132008-04-10T17:20:00.003+08:002008-04-10T17:24:25.023+08:00

I feel reckless. There's nothing to lose anymore. I couldn't care less anymore. It's all meaningless now. Well, I've made a mistake, it's true. What can I do? Face it, buddy. Face it. Life is tough, face it.Self-destructive. I feel self-destructive. Or just reckless. It's going to go on like this, Groundhog Day-style. Meaningless day-to-day drone, heading for destruction. I don't care

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-36518961750674608602008-04-10T16:49:00.000+08:002008-04-10T16:50:29.966+08:00

Slowly, gradually but surely, I'm beginning to let go. I received news today that I won't be returning to my previous life -- at least not for now. It's familiar territory for me: disappointments and heartbreaks. But I'm not going to dwell on it -- what good would it bring? As much as I hate to admit it, it's actually some kind of relief for me, a release. Cathartic.It feels now that I have

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3188953.post-71696682507129329042008-03-31T18:04:00.000+08:002008-03-31T18:08:36.103+08:00

End of March 2008 already. A time for endings yet again.I've run all the way from Singapore to Munich, and back again, still I feel helplessly forlorn. Actually, I feel even more forlorn now -- albeit for a different reason. I've been praying feverishly and fervently for yet another change, because I don't like what's happening now.Since I returned to Singapore after my three years in Munich,

Why8http://www.blogger.com/profile/11640076466302857839noreply@blogger.com1