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It’s CNY and I am down with the flu bug.
There is nothing quite as bad as being sick during the festive season. Especially when the festive season in question has goodies that invariably irritate your throat, make you cough and so forth… Sigh.
I was alright on the first day of CNY, but it got a lot worse yesterday. Being single (some anxious relatives would say, “still” single!) means that I am still entitled to collect hongbao. Collection was down considerably this year, though, I must admit. Of course on CNY eve, everyone came over – and we all feasted like mad. Suckling pig, roast duck, followed by steam boat. Then, on the first day of CNY, after visiting the relatives at my great aunt’s place, we ate at my aunt’s house, where there was enough food to feed an army (and then have leftovers still!). Then, Tuesday night, a friend (who is Baba) made dinner for us – we feasted.
there are still leftovers in the fridge…
In the midst of all this, and my being sick, X is, as per usual, being his usual sweet self. He knows I was sick, and was trying to call me the day before yesterday to make sure I was okay. F never did that… always avoided me like the plague whenever I was sick. X is different; he says he should be here by my side to take care of me. In fact, he just messaged today to ask how I am – and to also say that he wished I was there, ‘cos he went for soccer training and he is now bruised and battered all over.
C has not gotten the message. Am studiously avoiding him now – I must admit I caved in and have been replying to some of his messages. X is pissed off, with good reason – he feels that every time I message C back, it only serves to “encourage” him more, which is beyond me, because my messages are always short and to the point – nothing else could possibly be construed from them other than what is actually written there.
B called me just now; he noted that I sounded terrible. He said he may stop by later for a visit; am not holding my breath. At any rate, I know he wants to try to dig out as much as he can about X… he specifically asked if I was going to accept X’s proposal. I told him that we will have to see; there are a lot of if’s about it.
Sigh. I wish this rumble in my throat would stop. Tired of coughing and blowing my nose…
There is nothing quite as bad as being sick during the festive season. Especially when the festive season in question has goodies that invariably irritate your throat, make you cough and so forth… Sigh.
I was alright on the first day of CNY, but it got a lot worse yesterday. Being single (some anxious relatives would say, “still” single!) means that I am still entitled to collect hongbao. Collection was down considerably this year, though, I must admit. Of course on CNY eve, everyone came over – and we all feasted like mad. Suckling pig, roast duck, followed by steam boat. Then, on the first day of CNY, after visiting the relatives at my great aunt’s place, we ate at my aunt’s house, where there was enough food to feed an army (and then have leftovers still!). Then, Tuesday night, a friend (who is Baba) made dinner for us – we feasted.
there are still leftovers in the fridge… In the midst of all this, and my being sick, X is, as per usual, being his usual sweet self. He knows I was sick, and was trying to call me the day before yesterday to make sure I was okay. F never did that… always avoided me like the plague whenever I was sick. X is different; he says he should be here by my side to take care of me. In fact, he just messaged today to ask how I am – and to also say that he wished I was there, ‘cos he went for soccer training and he is now bruised and battered all over.
C has not gotten the message. Am studiously avoiding him now – I must admit I caved in and have been replying to some of his messages. X is pissed off, with good reason – he feels that every time I message C back, it only serves to “encourage” him more, which is beyond me, because my messages are always short and to the point – nothing else could possibly be construed from them other than what is actually written there.
B called me just now; he noted that I sounded terrible. He said he may stop by later for a visit; am not holding my breath.
At any rate, I know he wants to try to dig out as much as he can about X… he specifically asked if I was going to accept X’s proposal. I told him that we will have to see; there are a lot of if’s about it. Sigh. I wish this rumble in my throat would stop. Tired of coughing and blowing my nose…
I hate my life sometimes.
I have issues with work – the chief reason being my lowly pay, which does not justify the workload. It has been at the back of my head for a while, and I never really was so bothered by it, until my mom had to sow the seeds of discontent by saying that she had recently interviewed a “stupid sales exec” who is going to earn more than I do.
I have enough hang-ups about being fat without my mother harping on about it. She always calls me to her room to help her out to do something – but this time, it’s to ask me to get on the weighing scale. Like I am some sort of fucking cow that needs to be weighed in. I am not a fucking animal – I have feelings too. She tells me I am fat fat fat all the time, Am sick to the back teeth of it. And she thinks it’s because I can’t handle the truth. I can, but not when it is pushed in my face all the time. So I am fat. I live with it, I live with people making remarks about it behind my back all my fucking life.
She seems to think that by saying all this, that rubbing my face in it will somehow motivate me. It doesn’t. It only makes me hate her for saying these things. I know I should not say things like that about my own mother, but everyone feels that way sometimes, right?
I am trying to ignore it. But the fact is, I am sitting here bawling my eyes out. Because when I get down like this, I start thinking of other stuff. Like F, like work like… Every damn thing wrong I have done in my life.
Thanks for making me feel so wanted, people. I appreciate it like a hole in the head.
I have issues with work – the chief reason being my lowly pay, which does not justify the workload. It has been at the back of my head for a while, and I never really was so bothered by it, until my mom had to sow the seeds of discontent by saying that she had recently interviewed a “stupid sales exec” who is going to earn more than I do.
I have enough hang-ups about being fat without my mother harping on about it. She always calls me to her room to help her out to do something – but this time, it’s to ask me to get on the weighing scale. Like I am some sort of fucking cow that needs to be weighed in. I am not a fucking animal – I have feelings too. She tells me I am fat fat fat all the time, Am sick to the back teeth of it. And she thinks it’s because I can’t handle the truth. I can, but not when it is pushed in my face all the time. So I am fat. I live with it, I live with people making remarks about it behind my back all my fucking life.
She seems to think that by saying all this, that rubbing my face in it will somehow motivate me. It doesn’t. It only makes me hate her for saying these things. I know I should not say things like that about my own mother, but everyone feels that way sometimes, right?
I am trying to ignore it. But the fact is, I am sitting here bawling my eyes out. Because when I get down like this, I start thinking of other stuff. Like F, like work like… Every damn thing wrong I have done in my life.
Thanks for making me feel so wanted, people. I appreciate it like a hole in the head.
Sometimes, it takes a certain event to make one see the light.
I met with C on Monday, if only to claim back my old laptop, which I thought he could help me out with, but turned out he couldn’t. We had dinner, and then he got all emotional on me again. He cried again, and this was in public, in a food court. I was feeling really bad (‘cos I really don’t like seeing people cry) and I gave him a hug. The bastard took advantage of this, and while I was hugging him, hugged me back – and proceeded to let his hands wander. Of course I backed away. Then as he was walking me to where I could get a cab, we passed through a park, and he said he wanted to sit down and compose himself. So we sat, and then he started crying again, and of course, he used the chance to let his hand wander – and more. I pushed him away, and told him I had to leave. That was two days ago, and he has been sending me SMS begging for forgiveness. As far as I am concerned, I thought he was a decent guy, and it turned out he wasn’t. That is the end of the friendship as far as I am concerned. Let’s see how persistent he is with the SMS.
I also met with B yesterday, along with a mutual friend, I suspected that B has a “thing” for this friend of ours, but he wouldn’t admit that he did (I only had confirmation of this fact after the meeting itself.) At any rate, I was observing him throughout lunch, and only one thought was running through my head: what was I thinking, to have once loved this guy? *shudder* I can safely say that this is the end of any inkling I had of anything more than friendship with B.
