Yay resexvist is over! We have maybe 3 more cycles to complete and then we’ve REALLY TRULY OFFICIALLY OLDFOLKLY DUNZO. Yeah I guess that would officially mean I’d be old by then. But most likely old and exhilarated, because I think I’m one of those people who were born with old brains anyway- I slept at 10 last night and woke up at 6 this morning – and its a Sunday, my friends. So this resexvist marked a significant turning point that will clearly set into motion a chain of catastrophic events to befall us as a nation – the epok epok makcik at the canteen ghosted us all and so I had NO epok epoks this resexvist – but lets hope they get their shizz together and get a new makcik in there stat or so help us god. The first week back at work was actually not as bad as I thought it would be, and the gf is doing well. Although honestly, I could be actively strangling my own neck while being beaten down by mutant pythons in the amazon and she’d very likely still be doing well. Life is blah, what else is there to say?
This week was looooooooong, it was like the endless caterpillar sprung from a Martian crater into space where it mutated into a Pokemon dragon and it’s coming to eat humankind for brunch. But it’s over!! My body is sore and my head is all over the planet, but my craving for blood and poking arms with needles is finally sorted. We basically had the usual training all week long but my body is so sore and tired and dramatically affected by all this and I don’t know why. Actually BASICALLY I AM OFFICIALLY OLD. Oh and guess who has decided to abandon me in my time of need – the canteen Makcik is no more! I’m not sure which Makcik paradise she’s gone and retired to but my epok epok connection is offline. No epok epok on resexvist! What is life!? I’ve also noticed that even though I tend to get angry at little things all the time, the one time I reached the demonic level of angry this week was when my autocorrect changed the word EPOK EPOK when I typed it out in whatsapp (because of course I was going to bitch endlessly about this to all my friends, right – there is no epok epok to bitch to about the epok epok less ness of my newly savage life!!) HOW DARE YOU WHATSAPP. How dare you.
So the first day of resexvist went okay, AND YET. I had never felt so tired and sore in my entire freaking life when I finally reached home. And we basically sat around doing nothing yesterday. How am I going to feel when we actually start doing things?! I am officially AN OLD MAN NOW. Thank you, miracle of life, for taking away your miraculousness one sad day at a time, until I am but a shell of wonderlessness who spends my life waiting for my bedtime. I literally took Grabhitch to camp and then Grabshare home, and the gods that reside in the hightowers of Mount Grab, land of the forever surge, granted me zero other riders and extremely jamless smooth rides with non-chatty drivers. It does not make sense that I was that deprived of energy and human willpower to think clear thoughts and make my own orange-lime juice combo! Why was I so tired! I mean, I feel great now but I went to bed at 9.30pm and had 7 hours of sleep! That’s a lot! Of sleep! Absolutely nothing of interest happened yesterday, other than I met 4 other guys whose first words to me were variations of – I NEED COFFEE and WHERE THE FLYING F CAN I FIND COFFEE HERE. I think I have found my people.
So we finally watched the new Power Rangers movie yesterday and it wasn’t painful, it did not kill us in the eyeballs, it wasn’t torture to my brain – it was just cute and blah and oh so extremely intensely unfathomably predictable (although, we would have complained anyway, if they changed the colours or the animals or the freaking giant floating face on the crazy 3D flat screen, right) which is fine, I guess. I did not love it, but I might watch the next one BECAUSE GREEN RANGER WOOHOO! I have no thoughts on Green Ranger beyond that because I don’t remember a single thing about him but I remember the feeling of him being awesome and me wanting to dance around in spandex and be him. DID YOU KNOW that the Seoul Garden Hotpot is no longer at Cineleisure, by the way, we did not and were thus fully traumatised – but thank you, random penyet place at Centrepoint for saving the night! EVERYTHING’S CHANGING! Anyway, countdown to sweet sweet resexvist continues – 1 more day – I will need to shimmy my butt today and get busy – CUT my hair, FIND my boots and make sure they’re still black – I don’t know what else I need to prepare and its comforting that I honestly barely give a shit.
Its Saturdoinks and there are 2 full days standing between me and resexvist time, which is exciting. You know I always like to commemorate my resexvist time here with little snippets of full-on joy so yeah, that’s coming. In 2 days time. I’m counting today as one full day, by the way. This would be my 5th high-key (not even going to explain the keys to you – the keys are a special subset of hellsome disgustment that, yes, deserves vague words that don’t exist to explain them in the most non-explanatory of ways) which means I will have 2 cycles of high-keys left after this, which means yay! I think. I hope. I’ve located my uniform, it literally feels like I live in a room made out of jungle material because its so HARD TO FIND MY GREEN PIXELATED UNIFORM but all is good; the search is over. I think I was disciplined enough the last time to keep all my badges in one tupperware box; a big thanks to the auntie living in my man-child brain. So I think I’m all good. As usual, we have zero idea of what we’ll actually be up to. I could go and find out we’ll be strip-searching neighbourhood pigeons for all I know. And thus, the unbelievably exciting element of suspense. I think that maybe part of me also kind of prefers to not know until the very last minute. There’s something very cathartic and awesomely naked about the way your brain feels when you’re in your greens – its like everything is up and down and whatever, lets f#$% everything and just do it woohoo! I don’t know why. Maybe its the fact that everything you’re wearing except for your freaking underwear was issued to you to wear AND you’re floating in a giant womanless abyss of no limits. It is oddly liberating in a weird way. NOBODY WILL EVEN CARE HOW MY HAIR LOOKS. You may not understand this statement, but I live in a world where one small gust of wind to my hair on my way to the office DEMANDS endless comments from front door to desk – oh did you change your hair? Something’s different about you! I like it this way.. OKAY YES I WILL SPECIFICALLY FIND THAT ONE WIND GUST AND INSTRUCT IT TO VISIT MY FACE EVERY MORNING FROM NOW ON SINCE THIS HAS BEEN YOUR GODLY DECREE. I don’t think that’s really exactly and specifically why I’m looking forward to resexvist, but that’s all I can imagine right now. In my abyssfull head.
I think I declared, a few posts ago, that I wasn’t going to extend this domain, and then today I realise that I did, in fact, extend it a few weeks ago upon forgetting that I had decided not to extend it. What is my brain? It was really hot last night, wasn’t it? I felt like I was sleeping in my toaster and my inner cheese was melting inside me all over my inner tomatoes while my inner chicken ham and my inner lettuce were plotting my death right in front of my slowly melting face. My bolster felt like a recently microwaved giant hotdog steaming like wildfire without any consideration for the fact that my poor overheated body is not, in fact, a giant hot dog bun meant to absorb all of its intense msg goodness at 17893674 degrees celsius. Actually, its morning now and I still feel hot so maybe its just me.
So I was scrolling through my Instagram feed yesterday and my dear dear most-beloved friends were having the most mind boggling breakfasts, like pomegrenate mango chihuahua smoothie bowls and oatmeal multigrain phoenix egg pancakes drizzled with the phantasmagoric aura of thunderclouds, or something like that I can’t recall the exact ingredients right now, and there I was sitting with this plastic round thing in my other hand, waiting this endless wait for it to finally beep and thus signal the coming of my plain freaking prata. Did we, as a society, suddenly decide to eat healthy and was I not invited to this discussion? I would have brought the appropriate style of suicide vest for such a meeting, my friends. I would have behaved, and exploded in perfect synchrony with your powerpoint slides. But okay, in all fairness, some of those smoothie bowls look pretty good, almost like works of art with the arrangement of the fruits on top, and the little berries here and there, and the delicate balance of self loathing and control freakdom – just a touch of both, of course, dangling invisibly in the air around it. Didn’t we use to DRINK our freaking smoothies, when did we start using bowls and spoons and perfectly cut fruits for our smoothies – I thought the whole point was to dump everything into a blender and down our throats – is this like a passive aggressive movement against plastic straws? What have plastic straws ever done to you and the sanctity of your life on earth, I would like to know.