Listless

I'm listless. Lethargic. Zoned out.

Too many things in my mind to clear. 3 Contact reports, unsigned quotations and media schedules to handle. I wonder if I really foresee myself working like this for the next 20 years.

After almost 4 months here, it's time to instill what you call "ownership" in my cubicle.

Today, I FINALLY got my own hole puncher.

Now, what's the big deal you might ask?

Well, considering I have to file and archive all documents, I ALWAYS have to run to my superior's desk to borrow it. Not anymore.

A more homely office desk. I've cleared the stack of newspapers and althought it doesn't look sparkling clean, it's the taste of "where I belong".

Another equally boring news, both Eric and Ivan are officially bald and being barked at by strangers who are in tacky green outfits.

Will be going through the same trauma as them. The thought of it stinks now. Although it's a underpaid-exercise regime to keep us fit, who would bother after that?

Just go look at all the pubs, bars and HDB flats. Those with lights still on are lying on their sofa or leather armchair with a six-pack & remote control within a finger's grasp away.

What's the point of wasting 2.5 years when we will just weaken ourselves in 2.5 weeks of undulating pure passionate joy of watching soccer mateches 25,000 miles away?

And the government has SO much sense.

Pffft,
Benjamin