Feeling old

This perpetual backache is really being a downer. Even as I’m lying in bed on my back, it’s still aching. 

Possible causes:

1. Shitty sitting posture – considering the fact that I spend most of the day sitting on my fat ass at work, my posture could very well be a huge contributing factor to my backache. 

2. Spine out of alignment – I’m not the most graceful of creatures. The years of falling down staircases and landing on my bum/spine could have contributed to this long term ache. 

3. Weak back muscles – I do next to no exercise. My muscles are close to nonexistent. Maybe my back is straining to keep me upright. 

4. I have a ghost straddling my back 24/7 ala Shutter wtf. 

Conclusion: I really need a professional opinion and solution to this. You know you’re in trouble when 30 mins of light walking can trigger a backache. 


They say the first step towards recovery is admittance.


“He: What’s the matter with you?

Me: Nothing.

Nothing was slowly clotting my arteries. Nothing slowly numbing my soul. Caught by nothing, saying nothing, nothingness becomes me. When I am nothing they will say surprised in the way that they are forever surprised, “but there was nothing the matter with her.”

–Jeanette Winterson


Maybe. Do you like the word maybe? I don’t. I don’t like it. I don’t like the uncertainty in maybe.

People generally don’t like uncertainties. And maybe is a deep dark scary hole filled with uncertainties.

Maybe tomorrow will be a good day. Maybe tomorrow will be a bad day. Maybe tomorrow will be both.

No one is certain about the future. Everything is a big fat maybe. And that’s what I dislike about maybes.

If only I knew for sure. If it’s good, it’s great. If it’s bad, I’d like to prepare for it, thank you very much. But maybe doesn’t let me do so. Maybe will come out of nowhere and smack me in the face.

So yes, I don’t like maybe very much.

Mayday Mayday Mayday

It’s been awhile. I’ve not had any inspiration to write, though I do find myself talking to myself a lot more. Especially since my insomnia has seemingly returned over the past couple of days.

Talking to myself has been… therapeutic I guess. When I find the voices in my head getting too loud to bear and I can’t find anyone who can understand the avalanche of thoughts inside my head, I can always find a willing listener in myself. If nothing else, at least it helps distract me from my insomnia.

Writing them down would be practically impossible, seeing it’s mostly just verbal diarrhoea. So the monologue with myself works to get rid of some of the noise inside. Hopefully it will also slow the whirring down long enough so I can fall asleep.


Oh, and my daddy turns 50 today. The big five O! Can you believe it? I need to spend more time with the people I love. Starting with dad.

Little Happy Moments

I don’t blog enough happy things. I mean, happy things happen to me, I just somehow don’t blog as much about them as compared to say, sad or angry things. I guess it’s part and parcel of being a pessimist by nature. But that also means I miss out on documenting so many little happy moments that matter.

My happy moment today was when he came to pick me up to work this morning.

A lingering hug after two weeks of separation coupled with genuine, giddy smiles on our faces, that was a happy moment that warmed my heart. Two weeks isn’t a long time, but for a couple as sticky as us (trust me, it’s borderline disgusting how much time we spend with each other), it sure seemed like a mighty looooong period.

Seems crazy how normal everything is, when 12 hours ago I was an eight-hour flight away. Seems crazy how normal it felt to hold his hands as he drove down the familiar road to work, to rest my head on his shoulders, to hear his voice not through the phone, to see his face not through a screen, to have him make me a sandwich for breakfast, and for us to just, be us.

Oh, how I’ve missed us.

Until we fall into each other’s arms again

As I prepare to take off on a trip that has been on my bucket list since forever, I am hit by an influx of emotions.

Excitement, worry, nervousness, and more than just a tinge of longing. Apart from my family, he is the one I’d miss most.

The silly conversations, late night cuddles, early morning coffee runs, movie dates, sinful suppers, or even just enjoying each other’s company without doing a single thing; I’ve gotten so used to them in such a short span of time. I’ve gotten so used to him in such a short span of time.

I’m not good at being lovey dovey, that’s more of his forte. But I do hope he knows how very much I’ll miss him while I’m away.

Until we see each other again, my dearest sloth.


She’s got the D

D for dengue, that is.

After more than a week of cough, cold, fever, diarrhoea, and ingesting more medicine than what people usually ingest in a year, I finally went in for an IV drip and blood test today.

Well, you know what they say about first timer’s luck? Yeah, I’ve certainly struck the jackpot this time.

A healthy platelet count is around 150. Mine is less than half, at 72.

Blood pressure, 100/60, an improvement from the 90/60 I got two days ago. Normal blood pressure is around 120/80.

And how could I not document my inaugural IV drip with photographic evidence?

I had to be pricked twice (in two different spots! 😷) because the needle the first time around couldn’t fit, so they had to switch to a smaller needle, one usually used on children. 😑

February is the shortest month in the year, and I’ve managed to chalk up a total of 5 doctor’s visits to date already. 😵 Health is wealth, people. Literally, because I’m going broke from all these clinic bills even though I have the nicest doctor in the world who waives fees and gives discounts.

Sigh. It’s times like this you realise how important your health is. The next time I forget this, may the torment of having diarrhoea 18 times in one day be a grim reminder.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go chug some more water so I don’t end up in the hospital.