There are only so many things that occupy my mind now. But they are all heavy stuff. Ok, so the history of Singapore does not count has heavy when compared to The Rise and Fall, but its dryness compensates. And I only think about that for my job, which I try to expunge from my mind the moment I leave. Unfortunately, I cannot so easily get rid of that creeping feeling of dread that insists on running its cold fingers through my hair.
Early this year was like riding out a typhoon. There was that interview in HongKong, where I mdae a few friends, all of whom (including me) were walking around with the horribly numbing question “Am I going to get it?” sitting on their shoulders. Then the day after I deliriously spun around the house like a deranged top, I get news that I was thrown into the winter pool, which spoilt all the happiness. Second interviews came and went, then bad news arrived in a pretty package. Alright, potentially fantastic news with impossible conditions.
So now, there is just the waiting; the wishin’, the hoping, the thinkin’ and prayin’
