When a person finds himself buried in a pile of work, he's quite wont to tell himself that given the free time i would do this and do that. Now that i find myself with all the free time in the word, i struggle to find the motivation to do anything at all. I am wanting a sense of purpose, and it has resulted in my miserably teetering along the edges of negativity. I can't quite say that i'm particularly unhappy about life, yet there is so little to do in my current state. Perhaps i exaggerate the true extent of my physical disability. I can certainly still type, i can perform all basic tasks required of a human. This faint feeling of misery must be the result of my not getting a call from royal sporting house regarding the job application. This is all compounded by the slight soreness in my throat that i am suffering from at the moment. Then there is the uncertainty with regards to my future in the army, that's been an agony. It is more painful anticipating the worst consequence in agony, than actually suffering the consequence itself. I sink deeper and deeper into a mire of negativity with each day that i spend at home not making good use of myself. I need work... and logic tells me that even if i have nobody to accompany in applying for relief teaching, i should go ahead with it because it is a possibility i have to explore in order to maintain sanity. I can't even form structure to my thoughts. Yet there are tasks to perform. Like the creation of a new alumni t-shirt. I've been avoiding because of my natural dislike for conversing with strangers and such things. I would do well to make a better effort at it.
Having nothing to do is driving me insane. I've spent the last 45 minutes fretting over the possibility that my left scaphoid is broken as well and that i'm just not aware of it. God damn it i am going crazy... It's a very unhealthy state of mind i am currently in.
I'll have to admit much to my own dismay, that i do in a very small and strange way rather envy the way Andrew, Boo keong and Chelsea have managed to attain the respect and love of the band members in the past year or so. They have managed to become leaders as well as friends to the members in a way i feel that i never managed to do when i was a leader in the band. Nobody ever said, i'll miss you and we were about to graduate my batch and I. Indeed circumstances then and now are entirely different. That does not change the way i feel about it, a vague sense of failure on my part to create a bond with them that was so tangible and vivid that my graduation would have been felt as a forming of a temporary void in the band's typical functioning. Perhaps part of the reason why i dedicate so much time to the band originates from that sense of failure. If i couldn't make a difference then, may be i cam make one now. Meddling little creature i seem to be. Three 4 years on since my own graduation, i suppose i have contributed a significant amount in my own way, and yet, it still doesn't seem like enough. Is that a factor in what keeps me going? Undoubtedly, and undoubtedly there are other contributing factors in the grand scheme of things.
After my review with the doctor this afternoon, i loitered around town for a bit, and naturally i found myself happily increasing the length of the mental list of books to get in the future. I did manage to get the next installment of Steven Eriksson's series of Tales from the Malazan Book of The Fallen. Yes, i can proudly claim that i am a fantasy reading geek. I've been waiting for this book for months, since last year to be precise. In fact, i think i've waited a whole year already.
The doctor had some good news today, just a week mroe before my mother can cut the stitches from my wrist, a grand total of 2 of them there are. Unbelievable...now i know why it's termed microsurgery. Leaves a tiny mark it does. All that anesthetic and all i have to show for it is a scar sealed by two grand stitches. I am happy of course, wouldn't want something big and obtrusive, but sadly, he isn't quite removing the screw. He doesn't see a reason to. Apparently the wee little thing is worth 300 dollars. I'd like to see the looks on my children's faces when they cremate me of whatever many long years from now and discover a shiny bit of metal in the remains. At least the new bandage is not as ugly and cumbersome as the old one. Oh and a strange thing is that the area where they inserted the long needle for anesthesia is more pain and sore than my broken region....hahaha!
My wrist has finally undergone surgery. To roughly underline the whole procedure, a needle about an inch long was stuck into my left hand and it was through that needle the doctor pumped my body with general anesthetic. So before i knew it, i was knocked out cold. My last sentence had something to do with being uanble to consume wine that night. Anyhow,they sliced my right wrist open and sawed the two broken bits raw with some wire, and then they screwed me so to speak - that is to say they drove a screw through both the broken bones to keep them together-. Now i don't know how well this will work but im praying with heart and soul...well not quite but i'm am hoping in a very positive manner entirely unbecoming of my nature that by july, i shall be unscrewed. Meanwhile, i may only suffer in agony as my band friends take on a newborn enthusiasm with regards to physical activity. Due to my handicap, i may not actively search for a job, that damned job agency has not gotten back to me at any rate. So even if i could work as i much desire to right now, i would not know where or how to find a job. I must seem like a huge bum to everyone, not working at all in the last three months since graduation. Well i can't really justify not having gotten a part time job, i feel even slightly ashamed of it. Yet, i was hoping that the job agency would be prompt in helping me find one. Can't rely on anyone but yourself.
I've thus far read like 15 chapters of Charle's Dicken's Great Expectations an i can only conclude that he must surely be the greatest writer and story teller whose works i have had the privilege of reading. It's fanatastic. I thank all the powers that be for an upbringing which has provided me with a command of the english language sufficiently strong to allow me to appreciate his work.
All things considered, my broken wrist, limited physical capabilities, lack of work and all. I find a very compelling need to set my mind towards finding a focus for my mental faculties in the next two months. While reading all day is quite fun, there's only so many words my eyes can take before they start to break.
Being temporarily handicapped or disabled or whatever term you may wish to use is a most depressing state to find yourself wallowing in. I've gone from beingfit and bustling with energy to becoming an immobile invalid who has to type with one hand while the other one which is wrapped in bandages and plaster rests upon a pillow. An utterly helpless feeling it is, but what hurts most - and it certainly isn't my wrist even if a bone in it is busted - is that all the hopes i harboured for an exciting future in the army are dashed, burnt to ashes in the consuming flames of my misfortune. If this leads to a downgrade in my PES status, i shall be dejected for a good long period of time. It very likely will result in that. I can only hope that the damage is a simple fracture without any displacement which would be absolutely disastrous. I always did appreciate the power of my right arm, losing it has meant that i find difficulty in merely spreading butter on bread.
Oh but i have Janice to thank for dragging me down to the A&E, if not the problem could have become so much more serious. What an incredible person and friend she's been. She came for band and had such an impact on all of us, the way she worked her magic on the uniform, or spent time rubbing down the swelling in my wrist and in Norman's shoulders. How she added some much needed female companionship for Farzana. She leaves for down under this July. Sorely missed by all she will be and a great loss to the band as well. This summer will mark a period loaded with changes for everyone. I can't help but dread change. Yet i can't wait for NS to come, then again with my currett physical state, i guess i can...i'd like to make a complete recovery.
My resolution has been made and so my nerves are calmed. It is well and good that i have a
very slight misanthropic streak to my nature. Life shall henceforth proceed as per normal with no visible manifestation of my mind's resolve.
This woman Lena from Kelly Services just called. Looks like the airport job isn't available any longer, they're looking for someone to fill up a
full time position. A commitment i certainly cannot make. Ah, but patience is the key to this. Fortunately i never did have a high expenditure.
Last night, i met my the secondary school gang for dinner at the completely halal food center in Bedok South. I'll have to be honest and say that the quality of the food was as poor as i had expected it to be. The company was good though, and it more than made up for the bland tasting food. We ended the evening walking along the huge canal at Tanah Merah, which runs behind my Grandmother's place all the way to the main road. True to the nature of our strange relationship. We ended up engaging ourselves in physical activities, which made me rue to choice of wearing that thick polo t-shirt. By physical activities, i mean seven 20 year olds playing "Ice and Water" and "Pepsi-Cola" within the confines of a playground for more than an hour. Haha. What it is that keeps us meeting up at fairly regular intervals over the years since we graduated remains something of a mystery to me. We consist of 4 guys, 2 almost completely english speaking chinese guys, one malay guy and an indian, mixing with a group of the most stereotypical "cheena" girls one would ever meet, they chatter predominantly in chinese, some have taken to working at KBox -although they don't like the job at all i must add-, and a conversation with them on msn is loaded to the brim with god awful emoticons bobbing and flashing across the screen in a most distracting manner. When we converge~ a most obtrusive din is created and we quite likely annoy the shit out of anyone within a ten metre radius. At this point of time in my life, having been shaped by experiences from the past years, i can safely claim that if i were to meet strangers like them right now, i would damn well avoid them like poison. Too noisy, too much chinese and too many damned emoticons. Yet, in spite of my aversion towards their "type" we still have fun when we meet. I put it down to the fact that we befriended one another in an impressionable age of innocence, we were 13 when we first met. Untainted by the prejudices which society would create in us many years on, we became very "gummy". Now, the appeal lies in being able to behave in an uninhibited manner when we are around one another. A feeling of release which allows us to revert to our childhood instincts without shame or fear of judgement. Best of all, there are no confusing emotions involved, we'd long since outgrown such complicated feelings. None of us is going to suddenly drop a bomb and say "I've had romantic feelings for you all this while". That simplicity and straight frankness in our relationship is something to treasure.
