Saturday:
Tuition starts at ten thirty in the morning and ended at twelve thirty. The second session started at one thirty and ended at three thirty. I went to Tiong Bahru and worked from five pm to ten pm. When I got home it was eleven. A late dinner again. By now, my gastric was beyond remedy. I went to bed with a bloated stomach and an extremely disturbed mind. Something was going to happen...
Sunday:
I met Florence for a swim early in the morning but I ended up pushing back the time because of my tummy ache. The water was icy cold but it was nice to swim after many tired days. After the short swim, we went for Jap food. The day went on so well that I know something is being cooked up for me. I could practically hear it. After the lunch, I went for work and reached home at six, totally burnt out. The atmosphere was different. I wish I am less sensitive to atmosphere. I wish I don't need to carry all this burden after two tiring days of work. My mood for relaxation went away and I felt my shoulders tensing up again. I slept late.
Monday:
I was supposed to wake up at five in the morning but I woke up at five thirty instead. I skipped breakfast and rushed off to work. I was so anxious because time is crucial where my work is concerned. I guess my body was too tired to co-ordinate with my mind and I half-fell. The steps of the escalator piercing into my flesh made it a half-fall. I looked as if I was posing like a runner that has just started. The pose lasted for few seconds till my mind finally worked and withdraw my flesh from the steps. The wound sting but I carried on running. I had no time to examine the wound. after work, I rushed down to buy Flora's birthday present. Although it was near my place, I had to shuttle between the two places to get the right present. After four miserable hours, I went back home and realised the pain during my bath. I looked down and saw my skin being scraped off and the wound was so deep that I could see my inner flesh. I had no time to attend to it and had to rush off to school. I was supposed to meet bey after school but she was too late. So it was called off. I went home and the atmosphere gets even more chilling. I hate my life. I suddenly remebered how I made my students write : An unlucky day and their unlucky days always start with them being late and ended with "I promised never to be late again". I used to laugh at the very typical storyline. I wouldn't consider the day an unlucky one. I have worse experience, but still, I am beginning to see where the idea of being unlucky because of punctuality comes from.
I feel good being tired physically and mentally. It limts my surging thoughts and prevents my hair from turning white.
Jacqueline
7:14 AM
