R is for Rumble

It’s never quiet in my head, always a constant rumble. There is literally an unending list of to – do,  and when i finally reach the last item on the list, I get to begin it all over again.

There is so much more I could be doing. Aspects of the business to develop. Aspects of the business to clean up, pare down. Administration. 5 year plans (say what?) 10 year plans (hahaha). Some days I can’t see past the next morning. Some days, hell, i can’t see past my frigging nose. Wanna see me get an Instant anxiety attack? Ask me what happens after the contract ends it’s run.

“Oh, you so lucky you get to travel as and when you like, meet people for lunch, as and when you like, take naps as and when you like..”

Hey. I can’t frigging remember the last single day (in Sg or out) I didn’t think about the business, or not worried about it. In fact I am even more stressed out of the country than being in Sg. Ask to see a copy of my phone bill when I went on my honeymoon. Do you know what’s it like to not be able to shut off your mind? Oh you so lucky, my ass.

Meeting friends for lunch is such a perk. But let’s compare those numbers to the number of meals with friends I’ve had to miss over work commitments.  The number of family meals I’ve had to skip or spent on the phone, because there was something that had to be done like now. oh you so lucky , my ass.

2 am nights? That’s a norm in this household. Can you immediately fall asleep after crunching numbers? I can’t.  I take another hour to wind down. Begrudge me my naps? I’ll gladly trade those in for the ability to finish all work related matters at 6 pm. Oh you so lucky, my ass.

Hey. I love what I do. I do. And i have evolved my own ways of coping. I can’t live any other way. I can’t do this any other way. But it pisses me right off, when people shoot their mouths off without thinking about how it makes the other person feel.

Life’s too short to be bitchy. 

Q is for Quiet

We can hear the crash of the sea from our bed, despite closed doors and windows. It sounds manically angry. Oh I’ve been to many beaches, but this is the first time I’m hearing the crash of the sea quite like that, from my bed.

It’s 4.30 am here in Lombok. I am awake because I’ve got a mozzie bite behind my ear. Actually it was the whine of the mozzie that woke me. But I prevailed, oh yes I did. I killed the little bloodsucker, in a burst of blood and guts. Fat little porker, feasting on me and Denn.

So much excitement and its only night 1.

Denn and I travel quite a fair bit, we do. Packing a travel bag is quite a quick 10 minute affair. But this time I did a real bad job of things. I forgot his specific – must – have cleanser. Packed him too many underpants, but forgot his sleep shirts. Packed my jewellery to match my outfits, but forgot our toothbrushes. I chalk it up to me not feeling too well before the trip. I never mess up travel packing. I have everything I need, always. But this time I forgot my essential oil bag!

Tomorrow I’m going to go to the shopping town (please tell me there is a shopping area.. street stalls.. anything!!) To buy him some of those beer singlets to sleep in.. and maybe a couple of beach lounge pants for me. If we come back quick and wash them.. We probably can leave them out to dry by sat.

The resort is lovely though. Good bed, clean facilities, attentive staff. When I called the operator to ask how to stop the safe from beeping at 4 am in the morning (i was trying to set the code and set the darn thing off).. They didn’t laugh at me. My forever boyfriend did though. The safe beeped for a long while.

We realised when we headed for bed, there was only 1 pillow allotted for each of us. Just to set things in context, Denn and I sleep with 7 pillows and 4 dogs at home. There is always something to cuddle, hug or hold on to. so just now, we decided it was too late to trouble housekeeping to bring us more pillows.. so we will make do for tonight. But boy do I regret that now.

Love is when.. you are tossing and turning, and you wake your partner up from the ruckus.. He asks you what is wrong, and you say “I can’t sleep with 1 pillow”, he moves over to share his pillow with you, so you can hug yours.

True love is when.. despite having one and a half pillows and still can’t sleep, he attempts to pat pat you to sleep, automatically. He didn’t manage to lull Me to sleep, but valiant attempt.

Boy did i luck out or what.

B is for best laid plans

It feels like someone put a G clamp on my hip and is tightening the screws. It’s been 5 days, and while it is definately getting better, it is not 100%.

I’ve been trying to stay in bed working off my laptop, smart phone (go Samsung! ). But I am not the laze – in – bed type so I’ve been moving around the house but sitting down when I can.

But this also means.. i have the marks of TCM on my back, instructed to keep off the beach (uneven ground) and to lie flat as much as I can. Did I also mention the gawdawful hip / abdominal brace I have to wear?!!

Does not bode well for Lombok. We are leaving tomorrow to attend one of Denn’s closest cousin’s weddings.. and Denn wouldn’t miss it for the world. He is crazy swarmed. . And will probably spend the entire time we are in Lombok holed up in the room working.

No beach time for me. :( which is just as well because Denn read an article which indicates a very high level of mercury in Lombok, and had forbidden me to go near the sea since we’re planning for baby.

But the resort we are heading to, so very pretty.

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S is for Swim

Alessandra-Ambrosio-is-a-yummy-mummy-in-bikini-shoot-for-Victorias-Secret

The perpetual summer; my love affair with swim wear. oh dont we all wish we had bodies like alessandra ambrosio. but alas, we cannot all be victoria secret angels — but one can always look. i remember covering my files in College with VS bikini shots, and my GP tutor asked me about it one day. it’s not so much about the girls or their bodies, but what that freedom on the beach means to me. holidays are never complete without a beach. (hear me, Dennis!! BRING ME TO FIJI!!)

so we just got back from Sepang, a beach — but we didnt really hit the beach because the beach was not the pretty type. Heading to Lombok with my in-laws middle of the month for Denn’s cousin’s wedding — am seriously doubting any beach time; especially given that the whole gin=gang of relatives will be there– and being on the beach with familiars just isnt the same. (Take me back to the topless beach on Santorini! i was too much of a prude to go bottomless. the hoo hoos are one thing. the haa haas? my forevboyf doth not allow it).

So i have acquired a new tankini — my old nautica ones were from New York, too many moons ago; this time from the sensible people at lands’ end, just in case we want to do any form of swimming in the sea– i actually know someone who completely lost her bikini top in the sea, while i was swimming with her. too funny — over paranoid — will not do real swimming in bikini — and if i have to, double knot, double-double knot.

since the hormone inbalance and the weight gain, i dont think i’ve put on a bikini –but this weekend, i got a little suntanning done on the deck in our resort room, and i think i’ve gotten the bug again. time to get back in shape!

anyway, i’m planning a short trip with my girls to perhentian, its beachy.

Aug, denn and i are doing the Malaysia coast. again, beachy.

maybe okinawa for my birthday? Beachy!

oh i guess that must be why i went a little nuts and bought two other swimmies i do not need. :) thanks Denn.

Letters from the road; 4-post bed

Last night we got to the resort at 10.30 pm. And that is the last time check I’m making on this trip. we are trying to do this trip without time checks – what a difference it is from our daily slew of meetings and deadlines and whatnots. So we sleep when we’re tired, eat when we’re hungry, drink as much coffee as we want (not need) whatever time it is.

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We sleep in a four-post bed complete with the soft mosquito net. I always wanted a bed like that, my mother calls it a “princess bed” – which i spent most of my childhood petitioning for. the ceiling fan in my room always stood in the way. this room has a gorgeous atap style really high ceiling. its dreamy.

the resort is pretty, i give you that — funishings are new and everything is ordered via the TV — buggy ride to wherever in the resort, room service.. pretty cool. A life buoy in every room to save a drowning person on the balcony oddly makes me feel safer despite its jarring orange colour (we are in a villa, with a balcony jutting out over the sea.). the check in was efficient, the lobby gorgeous. room service was efficient and delish, and not overpriced. the spa facilities look to die for.

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but oh, let me catalogue the flaws. hey, i always say, its the details that matter. i woke up this morning to the dismay that the sea is a muddy green-brown colour, the complimentary coffee is a instant mix, the shower amenities are from a dispenser and the body lotion is from a communal pot (wouldn’t touch that with a 10 foot pole). there is no where to plug in the coffee maker (i had to unplug a lamp!) and our room evacuation plan is a ladder (it is a gorgeous bamboo ladder though) leaning on the balcony wall. oh, did i mention the fact that we didnt realise (we got in at night after driving all evening) that our toilet faces a completely open glass window, so one of us (ahem, it wasn’t me), walked out of the bathroom after his bath and totally flashed the neighbours. “Do you think the neighbours saw me naked???” well, we were the only ones with the lights on and they were looking our direction and its a pretty big glass window..

i had a quiet night out on the balcony; there were some local fishermen out at night, shining their torches into the water and casting nets, just below my deck (we are on the 2nd floor), singing softly. it was oddly serene.

now to hit the beach!