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Time for an Instagram detox (i.e. deleting the app) because God knows how terrible that shit is for me. It’s usually an impulsive decision, just like how I went to trim my hair again, barely a month after I gave it a chop. A mental conversation ensues:

“Okay, tonight I’m going to delete Instagram!”

“But you need it for work!” (I do.)

“Aiyah, but can access on Chrome also what. No need the app one.”

“I guess… You’re right…”

“Just delete only, don’t think so much.”

*shrugs*

I do this once in a while for about three – six weeks each time but I think I will do it for an extended period this time round. The first time I did this was in Y2S1, where I deleted the app after recess week and redownloaded it… On my birthday. I remember taking two papers – 2021 and Spanish – on that day. What joy.

Anyway.

I think the second time was in Y3S1. Do you detect a pattern emerging? Maybe. Clearly I feel the most insecure/I want to minimise distractions (depending on how you see it) in the first semester of each academic year.

Also, there are only a handful of people whose lives and photos I’m genuinely interested in, but most of them don’t even post much in the first place. Meh.

On a separate note, I have been writing a lot on this space (mostly rubbish though). To think I had worried about not having enough content before I made the full-time switch from Dayre!

… I hope you guys are not sick of seeing my email notifications and my posts appearing every other day on your feed

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Photo taken in August 2014.

I visited my late grandfather’s niche at the columbarium at St Teresa’s Church. It’s a biannual family thing – once during the Qingming period and the other on his death anniversary.

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My mum asked if I was going to have dinner at home tonight. I told her “no”, before telling her I was going to visit iLight @ Marina Bay.

With your Laos friends?

Yeah, I replied. There was a slight pause.

Don’t you feel tired?

… I don’t like being at home, I admitted.

Our conversation stopped there. Before that my grandma was complaining (in hushed tones) about how my helper has become “lazy and incompetent”. While I am not at home half the time to witness any of these “lazy and incompetent” moments, I am quite annoyed at my grandma’s frequent, snarky jibes at my helper. I have learnt to tune out whenever this occurs, but I am extremely sensitive to negative vibes and over the years I have realised that I take a long time to recover to my natural, cheery state.

Of course there is a host of other reasons why I prefer going out during the weekends, but I will leave such intimate thoughts to another day.

Or maybe, I am the problem.

 

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Long day, long week, but here’s a shout-out to my grossest friend whom I have the most ridiculous conversations with.

Brooding thoughts to be saved for the weekend, goodnight!

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Found this in my Dropbox folder :’) This was taken during our impromptu morning walk around Na’Learng and to the neighbouring village (Na’Pong?). I remember someone saying each village entrance was demarcated by a marking on a tyre. We greeted the villagers as if they were old friends; we paused at each rice farm to marvel at the mountains that stood like old guards. These mountains were shrouded in the clouds, and I remember telling Wenbin the landscape looked so surreal, it reminded me of Studio Ghibli films. Then we kept debating whether these mountains were hills and vice-versa. I can’t remember which side I was on, but I do recall Lynn saying something about scaling them.

All with such vivid clarity.

It’s been nearly three months and yet the ~feels~ are still going strong. I have never been this sentimental about a particular place or even a group of people. Heck, I don’t even consider myself a nostalgic person but in these past three months I have caught myself rewinding back to the two weeks we spent in Laos. Sometimes, it scares me how much I remember  – from day-to-day conversations to reciting numbers in Lao – and I think of these times with a slight grin on my face.

Then reality hits when I realise no one has invented a time machine yet.

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It’s only 2pm but I can already feel the Monday blues settling in.

I just came back from a tennis session with Victor and Anna. My serve is improving but it’s still inconsistent so I’ll have to keep working on it. Tennis always clears my head, even if it’s for a mere two hours. There is an incomparable satisfaction that comes with hitting a clean and powerful shot that leaves your opponent completely wrong-footed. Or hitting a rare ace. Tiny yet significant accomplishments are especially more meaningful when there are tangible results.

I have been going out every weekend since PI started (with the exception of the week where I fell sick) and I do feel a little drained from these social activities.

But the alternative would be to stay at home, perhaps catch up on a few shows and God forbid, have my mind wander off to work and other thoughts I really don’t wish to think about. I do crave for some alone time, yet I am aware in such instances I am haunted by my greatest nemesis: Overthinking. Why do we think? Why do we feel?

Or rather, why do we think what we think and feel what we feel?

At least going out provides some sort of temporary escape from the stress and uncertainties that I have somehow found myself uncomfortably waddling in over the past month.

“You either sink or swim.”

Extremely verbose this weekend. Time to shower and then revise a factsheet for a client.

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(Edit: I have changed my theme! Considering the fact that I haven’t been posting a lot of images, I thought it would be better to switch to a theme that doesn’t require a featured image.)

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A day well-spent with good company and quality dark chocolate ice-cream that I unfortunately was too stuffed to finish 😦 

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Felt so lethargic and distracted at work today as though I had joined my colleagues for their overseas retreat over the weekend. Maybe it’s because I kept tossing and turning in bed last night, sigh. Anyway, here are some takeaways from the weekend –

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So after my state of (self-induced?) panic over the weekend that stretched till Tuesday, I received a pep talk from YX saying how the only person who can be strong for me is myself.

Which is true. 

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I never thought of myself as a perfectionist, but given how I relentlessly (and sometimes, needlessly) push myself so hard, I think I just might be one.

And I don’t like it one bit.

Everybody tells me to take it easy but when you know and have experienced what you are capable of, you don’t stop. It’s getting harder for me to draw the line between challenging my abilities and deciding, hey, maybe it’s good enough.

I haven’t had a proper mental break since PI started. By mental break I mean to not think about anything. To enjoy and to live in the moment. It frustrates me to no end that work occupies 90% of my thoughts but ironically it’s an excellent distraction from other more… introspective thoughts. What I really need now is some peace and quiet.

1.19am. Should I sleep and panic eight hours later or should I try to extract myself from this untimely creative rut?