Why I drive . . .

I never thought I would drive honestly. Not a car, a lorry, a cab, a motorbike or anything that has wheels. Which is why I never took my driving test till I was 24. My brother already got his car licence years ago when he was serving his army stint. And he has obtain 2 motorbike licences since then.

I did take up motorbike classes too, but it was short-lived. An army mate of mine got into a hit-and-run which fractured his jaw and elbows. He lost all his teeth, and had to survive on baby food for a good 3 months. He also had to make a trip to the National Dental Centre to wash his gums every other day. That blew the urge to ride a bike straight into oblivion.

An incident with my dad prompted my mum to pester me to get my class 3. It was a Sunday afternoon and my dad was having a sharp pain in his tummy. So bad that he was grimacing on the sofa. My brother had gone off for tennis practice and there was no one to bring him to the clinic. My mum had a licence but she hasn't drove in donkey years. So slowly my dad laboured his way to the car and drove to the clinic accompanied by me. It's not often you see my dad sulking in pain. His generation of male egos prohibits this display of agony. So he was truly in unbearable, overwhelming pain.

So we made it to the clinic and after the doctor had a look at him, she immediately called for an ambulance. The ambulance arrived to take him to the hospital and I was left on my own. I couldn't drive so I left the car and took a cab home. Had I have a licence, I would have speed him to the hospital straight away, and he wouldn't have to suffer the trip to the clinic.

So it was this that jolted my mum to hound me to get my licence. I tried all sorts of excuses to get away from it, but in the end I relented. Not so much because of my mum's nagging, but due to my inherent nature to fufil my duties as a son. A son is supposed to take care of their parents, the same as a parent would for their children.

I took a good year and half and 3 tries to get my licence. Hahahaha. First one was a straight failure when I mounted a curb in the circuit. Second try, I chalked up too many de-merit points. Third try was a charm. It was kinda basis though. The tester took me to a different route from the pre-planned one. He said before we left the circuit : "Now, Mr Pokpok. Please listen very carefully to my instructions and drive where I tell you to." So a planned left turn out of the school circuit became a right turn. We didn't do any u-turns or lane filtering on the 3 lane roads, nor any of the other items on the test score. My tester directed me to the small lanes and tour around slowly for a little while. We were back at the school circuit just 5 minutes later.

My tester took me back to the resting room and asked me : "Mr Pokpok. Do you think you are ready to drive on the road?" *ding!* A trick question! I looked intently into his eyes and replied : "Yes of course. There is no point for me to take any more lessons as I'm not learning anything new anymore. Only 'real' driving on the roads would help me be a better driver". And wala~! that was that. He gave me a quick smile and stamped his approval on my test scores.

No, I did not bribe my tester. No, he is not a relative or a distant uncle. No, I'm not chasing his daughters or their prospective boyfriend. And definitely, No, I am not a girl in tight skimpy mini skirt showing my legs! I had nothing to do with the "easy", "conspiracy ridden" test results. Hehehehehe. I was just a lucky fella getting some good hearted 'gift' that day.

So it's just fate that I'm driving today. A gathering of causes. =P

Oh the torture!

I'm bored, I'm bored, I'm bored. So bored that I was asking my assistants for invocies so I can help key them into SAP.

This is getting ridiculous. Why is there so little to do? It's becoming a drag to be in the office. Maybe I should request to convert to a part-time employee. But then again, how is it that the other supervisors are clocking so much overtime . . . Is there truly that much to do?

*Sigh* I'm leaving on the dot everyday because of this. This sucks. *Argh!!!!!!!*

Oh well, it's 17:45 now. Time to leave for home and go meet my meimei.

A Happy Puppy again！

Muhahahahha . . . the world is beautiful again! Well almost hehehe. Not right now though. . . my eyelids are half open and I'm close to falling into a subconcious trance.

My baby came back yesterday night. I rushed eagerly to the arrivals hall at Changi to await my Cinderella. Her flight touchdowned at midnight and she finally made it through customs forty minutes later. Ahhhhh what a glorious sight . . . my heart skipped a beat the moment I saw her. Oh my, that felt good. It's like being rejuvenated, like a butterfly raising from it's cocoon.

*Big wide unbashful smile*

So I'm constantly falling asleep at in the office right now. I'm on my 3rd cup of Latte . . . hmm or is it my 4th? Bah, I'm in a vegetated state of mind right now. Important thing was that I drove my honey home. I think I earned brownie points with her sister for that. I always thought that's what a boyfriend or husband should do. Apparently not . . . hehe so this 'nice gesture' brought added points to my scorecard. Every bit counts I guess.

I'm Bored . . .

Sigh. I'm currently writing this at work. Work . . . Verb/Noun.

1. exertion or effort directed to produce or accomplish something; labor; toil.
2. something on which exertion or labor is expended; a task or undertaking.
3. productive or operative activity.
(Note: Copyright of Dictionary.com)

What is it about work these days? Do we really accomplish anything? Or are we just doing something to pass time and wait for our monthly salary?

Before this current job, I was working in a 'well-known' Chinese owned computer manufacturer. My role was mainly to chase people for money. It's easy work, at least to me. Simple, no-brainer sort of thing. And there isn't much to do anyways. Half the time I would be surfing the net, chatting on MSN, taking smoke cum coffee breaks. There were days where I would surf from the moment I stepped into the office till I leave for home.

Now don't get me wrong. I'm not the sort to laze around and neglect my tasks. Nor am I the type to "taichi" away everything that comes my way. I readily help out my colleques and followup closely on all my responsibilities. It's just that there is so little to do. Well for me that is. I don't really know what it is . . . my colleques looks like they have lots to do. I seriously don't get it. Where did they find all these work? Did I forget to do something? Or am I working too fast? Too efficient? Am I missing something that everyone knows to do??? I don't get it . . .

I have just changed to a new job recently. Right before I took this up my ex-manager called me up and offered me a position at a US MNC dealing in the same industry as my last. I have a ex-colleque there and she mentioned they wanted a graduate to take up an accountant position. They were specifically looking for one so they could meet a quota, given by our Government, to qualify for tax incentives. Wow, so what is the real intention to get me? Is it being there as a commodity to satisfy some tax requirement? Would I be doing real work or there to do duplicate and redundant duties? I gave it some thought and politely declined. I was looking for a place where I can do real work, a productive role, where I can accomplish something meaningful. I thought I had found it . . .

This week marks my confirmation in the new position. It's a supervisory role and they gave me a 15% raise. The first three months went pretty well. I had ample time to pick up my duties, understand the workings of the company, the daily tasks and important responsibilities.

But . . . they ban people from surfing net, from MSN, from everything else. They expect employees to go about their tasks diligently and efficiently. Overtime claims here are atrocious with some staff claiming 500+ hours since January. Wow, they must overwork people here. There must be a mountain of tasks left undone. People must be bleeding sweat and blood judging by the number of hours they work.

But wait a second, what is this I'm doing right now. Shouldn't I be up to my neck in work right now? Sigh . . . this new place is no better than my last. It's a US MNC in the luxury retail goods industry, employing about 200+ people in the Chai Chee office I'm in. They have another office at Claymore Hill, and retail shops in Orchard and Changi Airport. By my estimates, they employ close to about 800 people in Singapore. A big company that is grossly overstaffed. Why? My best guess is that our EDB (the statutory board that promotes economic expansion and growth) gave them an employment quota for tax incentives, much like what they gave to most MNCs that set up operations in Singapore.

On one hand I'm glad my government is creating jobs for the people, giving its citizens means of a livelihood. On the other hand, I'm sick of being in a job just for that. I want to be a useful person, to create wealth and produce quantifiable results. I want a job where I actually do work that creates something material. Not this, where I sit around waiting for time to pass, surfing the net, writing blog entries, counting down the hours on the clock before I can go off.

Maybe I'm just a sucker for punishment (if you can call work as that). I know many people would love to be in my position, to be paid to do nothing. Ohhhhh so many would glamour for it, just so they don't need to move a single ounce of their braincells.

What else can I say to ease my frustration? Nothing I guess. . . I'll still be here tomorrow. Maybe I'll write another rant and complain about whatever comes to mind, just so I can pass the day again. Oh well, at least this post took up 2 hours. 2 more to go before I can leave . . . *Sigh*.

I hurt . . .

My baby is still not back in my arms . . .

Her stay got extended, for no other reason than her manager saying "I don't feel comfortable with no one there". What is that? Don't feel comfortable? How about a whack to your head? Or rubbing chilli padi into your eyes? Now that would be uncomfortable.

We used to share the same manager. Tadada! so guess who this silly manager is? The Empress of Doom, the Bringer of Sandstorms, the Queen of the Apocalyse, the . . . U T T E R N O N S E N S E excuse for a human being, Ms G*lian Lim (read one of my previous post on her). Phew . . . that felt better, even if it's only for a second.

I've fallen very sick though. My mind is a blank. My heart hurts. My head dangles like a half broken branch, always looknig at the floor. My hair are dropping. My my . . . *sigh* . . . I'm love-sick.

Hope my darling gets to come back next Monday . . .

1 System 7, 1.50 Quick Pick . . .

I gamble religiously on Toto. Toto is a game where 7 numbers, 6 standard plus 1 bonus number, are drawn from a pool running from 1 to 45. The draws are done twice a week on Mondays and Thursdays. There are 3 category of prizes and consolations. Top prize start from 650,000 and snow-balls to the next draw if no one wins it.

Tempting for anyone isn't it. Imagine winning a snow-balled prize of a few million dollars . . . Bye bye office! Heeelllloooooo sunny beach and beautiful babes! Muhahahahaha. In my case, many many holidays with my honey and family, maybe a new car, renovation on the house etc etc. Aaahhhhh, so many things can be done with that sort of money. I share the same dream as everyone else - to strike it big and welcome the instant retirement.

But well it's not that easy to strike . . . I did a mathematical calculation once. 45 different numbers brings 8.4 million plus combinations. It is a draw of sheer luck. And that is what i'm banking on this past 10 years. That one day my lucky stars would be smiling down on me and let me strike Toto.

Well some of you must be thinking . . . "You silly bum . . . do you know how hard it is to strike?!" "You are throwing your money down the drain!" "Stop dreaming and be realistic!" . . . Well I'm still working diligently. I bring home the dough every month. It's not like I'm sitting around doing nothing but dreaming about striking. I just 'invest' a little in hopes of a better tomorrow heheheheh. It's buying hope, something to look forward to, something to dream about.

Hopefully one day that dream would come true. . .

" Roll and behold,

Seven magical numbers are shown,

A golden ticket is told,

But the winner remains unknown.

Could this be my moment,

I turn to mine and hope,

They look at me in bemusement,

My optimism starts to mope. "

-Pokpok, 12 Oct 2007

Toto, A Game of Chance

Please take care of yourself . . .

My girl has been getting gastric pains recently and it's still coming while she is in China. She has had this problem since young. Apparently her family has it too. But that's not the important thing here.

The important thing is knowing to take care of oneself. I have a colleque Nancy who has gastric problems as well. But she has learned to bring a packet of biscuits with her everywhere, to munch whenever she feels hungry. She also takes her meals timely everyday. She says these days she doesn't get the pains as often since she had started to watch over herself. I guess it's because she is a mother of a 3 year old boy. She has to look over someone, thus becoming more self-conscious of her own health as well. As she puts it, "I watch over myself so I can enjoy my life with my hubby and baby. If I fall sick, I feel pain. But they would hurt even more in their hearts."

I hope my girl can learn to take care of herself. I remember her telling me she skipped lunch yesterday. . . it hurts my heart to know that. It's like seeing someone destroying their life and yet there is nothing you can do to help. It's this sense of helplessness that drives me crazy. Work is only important if you have the health to enjoy your fruits of labour. What's the use of slogging when you would be lying in hospital because of it?

I really don't know what I can do or say to help her. She can only help herself. Much like how I can only quit smoking on my own will. I can only pray she becomes a big girl sooner. . .

" Like a baby in a craddle,

Raising her arms to the sky,

I help my baby across the puddle,

Hoping she will try.

There is only so far,

My body can carry her,

The paths are made of tar,

And I can't always be near. "

- Pokpok, 11 Oct 2007

One's path

I miss her so . . .

Damn'it . . . only 2 days and I'm already feeling the pain. Hmmm, am I being too sticky? I don't know. What I do know is I miss her. 5 more days . . . 120 hours . . 7200 minutes . . . 432000 seconds more to go. That's like an eternity when you miss someone . . .

Darn it hurts.

I'm going home for dinner now every night. Then off to Vanadiel to play with my Taru. I'm like a lifeless zombie now, walking with my head down. Oh, why can't the week go by faster . . .

" Where is your soul,

Your heart, your mind, your own,

You seem to be wandering,

Around the white desert alone.

Where is your soul,

Lost in a barren sea of cold,

You seem to be drifting,

To a land made of mold. "

- Pokpok, 09 October 2007

Decay

Tick-Tock-Tick-Tock . . .

I mentioned in a previous post about my Tarutaru in FFXI. They are truly cute creatures . . . yeah yeah it's a digital world . . . but just indulge me here. The most lovable thing about them, besides their big head, is that when they stand or sit they will sway from side to side. They are like those big head toys, heads rocking from left to right.

Recently I discovered my darling does that as well. Hehehehehe. And wala~! The term "Taru-ing" was coined. Whenever she stand or sit still, she will unknowingly taru. Like a little 5 year old girl swaying from side to side, immersed in her own beautiful world. I feel a warmth in my heart everytime I see her taru-ing, and would draw a quiet grin on my face.

" Swaying from side to side,

Rocking from left to right,

Constant as an ocean's tide,

Oh it's such a pleasing sight.

Watching my baby taru-ing,

My heart fills with such pride,

Whatever she is yearning,

I would gladly try to abide. "

- Pokpok, 08 October 2007

My Taru

Blankey, Blankey go away. . .

My baby left for China again yesterday. . . *sobz*. She would be there for a whole week (hopefully). So here I am alone, counting the days before I can see her angelic face again. I miss her already.

Her flight was in the morning at 11AM. So I had to wake up at 7AM in the morning even though I had slept at 3AM the night before. My baby called to give me a wake up call and as I laid in bed struggling to peel open my eyes, my inspiration hit me . . .

" Blankey . . . Oh Blankey,

Come again another day,

My baby's leaving,

For a land far far away.

I need to catch her today,

To show her my dismay,

To make up all the kisses,

Before my week of disarray.

Blankey . . . Oh Blankey,

Do you hear me pray,

My baby's waiting,

So please do as I say. "

- Pokpok, 08 October 2007

Blankey, my Baby

I have a standing joke about waking up in the morning. Although I always set my alarm clocks to 7AM, I can never get right up when they ring. I'll just bang them off and continue to snooze. Good thing though my honey always call to make sure I wake up heheh. Though I always have some sort of excuse hahaha "Honey, I can't get up, blankey is holding me captive . . ." "Honey, the sky is still so dark, why you call me at 4AM in the morning . . ." She says "Pokpok . . . pillow is covering your eyes again . . . that's why it's dark . . ."

So yesterday, I put in my most gallant effort and fought against Pillow and Blankey. I managed to wake up to send my baby to the airport and see her off. *Sigh* I hope this week breezes past quickly, so I can hear my darling's voice again every morning.

Let me out! Let me out!

A momentous life changing experience hit me 2 nights ago.

I was sending my baby home. We got onto the elevator and up to the 21st storey. As she was getting off, the doors suddenly close in on her. Luckily, it only caught her hand as she pulled away back into the elevator.

The elevator stalled and the doors refused to open again. It kept banging in the closing motion while an annoucement echoed in the elevator : " This is an emergency annoucement. For your own safety, please do not force open the door. . . ". Wow . . my very first elevator breakdown! Help! Help! Call the Police! the Fire department! the Special Task Force! the Army! Call the damn President!!!!

So there we were, stuck in the elevator. It had stopped on the 21st floor so we could peer through the windows to the corridor. My darling called the emergency number listed on the elevator wall and they said they would be coming soon (I had left my phone in the car ... so much for being the knight in shining armour).

We sat on the floor and waited, while listening to her ipod playing Scissor Sisters medleys. Hmm what's this feeling i'm getting . . .

" Stuck in a lift,

I banged desperately ,

Longing for the gift,

Of freedom and reprieve.

Where is my saviour,

To rescue me from the pits,

My maiden in shining armour,

Oh I'll love her to bits. "

- Pokpok, 04 Oct 2007

Fear of Heights

I have this fear of heights . . . Yes . . . it's not manly. But I can't help it. My head goes into dizzy spells and my hands start trembling. My mind would play tricks by imagining me falling off the edge to my death.

It was a good thing we could only see the corridor. But I still can't help it knowing we were on the 21st storey. What if the elevator grips start to give way? What if the steel ropes were suddenly cut? What if . . .? Phew . . . fortunately my mind didn't get to wander for too long. As I held onto my honey's hand, I felt a sense of comfort and relief. My maiden in shining armour . . . Hehehehe.

But this incident changed my life though. Ha! I'll never live in an apartment higher than 10 storeys, at least not till I conquer my mortal fear of heights . . . or maybe if my lady holds my hand always.