the doctors and nurses of the state are driving me crazy.
sorry but i really must gripe awhile. firstly, i headed to the clementi polyclinic to get my meningitis vaccination done (and don't know why, got cajoled into getting influenza as well, my body is teeming with billions of antibodies just waiting to punch the lights out of the germies), and the nurse and doctors simply REFUSED to sign the form that shows WHERE i got the jab. oKAY. i can still deal with this. i then head to the health promotion board at SGH to get my history of vaccinations report. it's not ready yet, and they CAN'T sign the forms either. i'm still breathing easy. i THEN head to YIH's UHWC (it's a stupid abbreviation for a stupid name for a clinic and don't correct me cause' i'm in a ranting mood) for a medical checkup which GOES UN-BLOODY-FINISHED because i have YET to take a mantoux test BECAUSE singapore is a high-risk country for tuberculosis.
SO. tomorrow i'm going to tantockseng to GET my blasted mantoux test done, THEN off to SGH to get the history of vaccinations report. i am THEN heading to UCC to work for 7 hours straight. i am going to be TIRED. but that's good, because i've come to the realisation that i've been suffering from night-insomnia (note i said night because nothing bothers me from nodding off to sleep during lectures and sermons and bus rides in the day) for the past month or so, and can only sleep throughout the night sans interruptions IF i have had an extremely tiring day. so. besides the insomnia and the occasional period cramps i am a HEALTHY person. why do they refuse to verify me as so? chalk it down to the contortionist health system.
why do i always seem to be doing things the long way around, the wrong way? am i stupid or what? i don't know, but whatever's happened so far seems to point to that statement being true. other people don't have as much problems with these health forms as i do, that much i do know for sure. i just keep wasting time and money. speaking of money, i don't have any. haha! *crazed grin of the near-insane*... i keep spending my parents' money getting stuff for myself and the trip i'm getting embarrassed.. i want to hide in a corner and just say "i'm taking whatever i've got and sod it if my ears and fingers and other appendages drop off if i'm freezing in just three layers of cloth in subzero temperatures because i simply can't bear spending any more of your money, it's hideously shameful.."
but of course i won't. just like the way xiuxiu couldn't shoot her toesies off. (don't mind me.. i watched that utterly depressing banned-in-china-directed-by-joan-chen film in the central library today with baoyi and the mournful plaintive melody of nananaaa is reverberating around in my head like a demented remote-controlled car.. you know, the kind that some kid plays with in carrefour or some super crowded place and it gets snagged up in some trolley or pram wheel but i digress, as usual) anyway. the thing is, i'm sick of how this christmas is ending up to be memememememe. how the insurance costs 1K, how i have to buy a new suitcase because all of ours are too small and above two centuries old, how i need this and that. i'm sick of how i'm so totally broke and it's christmas and i've yet to write a single card for my everlong list of christmas card people, not to mention even THINKING of getting presents because it'll just mean asking my parents for more money and no way am i gonna do that. i am disappointed with december because it doesn't have 50 days, which is what i need at minimum to do all the things i want to do before i leave. i am also disappointed with people i am unable to meet because they're busy and so am i. i am unhappy, and that's an understatement for the way i'm feeling right now.
okay. i am done with complaining... now on to the good stuff
went to watch xiuxiu:the sent down girl and love's labour's lost with baoyi today.. it's amazing how friends from secondary school have endured till now and have become closer people instead of mere hi-bye acquaintances.. it was great talking to you (half of it was about food, what gluttons we are) and just spending time, leisurely talking about life and its mishaps and happy moments in the cool breezy central forum.. i'm gonna miss that.
thanks to my mentoring group for rearranging their schedules to meet tonight. it was a good time of fellowship and catching up that we had, mayfern sylvia jiating and xiuying... especially syl... haven't seen you for SOOOO long! sigh zan (if you see this), thought a weeknight was what you wanted, but never mind. take care at work and don't overstress. gonna miss you all (yesyes reiteration but heck i MEAN it) when i leave.
that's it from my verbal diarrhoea-suffering mouth for now. if you want to tell me you'll miss me (and believe you me it WILL do wonders for my badly battered-by-bad-docs-and-nurses self) just leave a post below. ta.
juice.susceptible had time to talk trash at 1:04 AM
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august 2014. how time flies! i still feel like i have so much more growing up to do. :)
funny how life changes forever with the most miniscule of happenings. the startled meeting of two surreptitious glances in the mirror, the sudden dangled offering of purchase of free flight. the thin results slip, the inconspicuous admissions letter. the bad phone call, a moment's folly of taking advantage of someone. the last thoughtless caustic remark that pushes a strained friendship over the edge. i love/hate life. and i know it's a loan.
archiveblog.
newblog. created for EN 3249: The Body - Politics, Poetics and Perception
modern daguerrotypography.
People.
here are the results of my aimless wanderings throughout endless cyberspace. limited in scope but thoroughly interesting, i guarantee.
books this season.
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Living Next Door to the God of Love by Justina Robson
A Case of Exploding Mangoes by Mohammed Hanif
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The Winter Vault by Anne Michaels
The Magicians by Lev Grossman
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The Little Book by Selden Edwards
Eaters of the Dead by Michael Crichton
The Books of Magic by Neil Gaiman
Moll Flanders by Daniel Defoe
Tristram Shandy by Laurence Sterne
Joseph Andrews by Henry Fielding
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