Oh no!

I have quite decided that I hate my job. This trip to the UK was supposed to rejuvenate my motivation at work. A change is supposed to be as good as a holiday but why do I still drag my feet each day?

I have decided that audit can no longer teach me anything that I am keen to learn. Well at least the audit of insurance companies, funds and pension schemes. Enough!

But I can't leave this profession. Not before I get my certification and that isn't going to be for another year. So if there's nothing I can do about it then it makes no sense moping around thinking woe is me but that is obviously easier said than done. And then after that what? I'd like to do contract work and earn heaps of money with little responsibility.

I'm so tired of stress from work. I feel like a clown or a jester. Juggling, doing cartwheels and breaking my back whilst everyone just sits back and criticises. Well not everyone but I think the criticisms stick more than a praise.

I think contract work would be the ideal. To be rolling in dough without the effort, to be able to live a care-free life and having time to smell the roses.

--> We climbed all the way up 'Catbells', one of the numerous hills at lake district.

Nothing new has happened to me so far. Well, nothing that got me really excited...

Made a trip down to lake district on the weekend with 9 others in two cars. Lake district is a really lovely place. Very quaint. It would have been a great holiday had it not have been for the mad rush we were in half the time.

Now i just feel really exhausted and run down. This is no good. I need to do some serious studying and already I have started off on the wrong foot. I have decided that I shall be more selective of my travelling partners from now on.

After being dragged around half the country side, with my legs walked into a dull sort of ache, a result of hauling myself up a hill and at some points, going down on all fours and scaling the steep faces of the hill, someone suggested going to watch a play at the 'Theatre by the lake'. Mind you, this was immediately after our trek/climb and we were sticky and icky.

Now ordinarily, I might not have passed up a chance to act artsy fartsy especially when the play was 'Of mice and men', one of my favourite books as a kid. But really, after trekking for 3 hours, the only thing I really wanted to do was sit down somewhere and vege out. Not go to a play feeling sticky and stinky. AND, some of us had barely slept the night before. Fat chance of me staying awake. Thankfully, the theatre had only 5 tickets left and only the 5 in the other car could go. I did a silent hurray. We parted ways with the other 5 and Billy, Rachael, Christine, Yee chung and I headed into the town centre where we had a nice dinner just hanging out and bonding. Now that's what I call a holiday.

We barely made it back to the hostel at just past 10 and collapsed into our beds like flies.

However, the next morning, we were rudely awaken by a shrill voice demanding we get out of bed immediately. I really do not recall signing up for bootcamp. This was supposed to be an idyllic getaway from the hustle and bustle of city life!

Grrr....

And we almost were not allowed to stop off for breakfast!

Really not a great holiday at all. I'd much rather travel alone thank you very much

Went down to Borough market for lunch today with Ee Lin. I was really overwhelmed

Sydney's markets come no where close in comparison.

I'd read somewhere that Borough Market was a good place to find an assortment of delicious food but as my imagination wasn't good enough, I wasn't expecting to be impressed.

But impressed I was.

I think it will be hard for me to put into words the Borough experience. The colours, the smells, the, the sounds, the hustle and bustle.

From the outside, Borough looks far from inviting. It sits along Southwark Street and Borough High Street. Both roads are quite dirty and lined with grey unexciting buildings. The entrance of Borough is also under a bridge which casts a shadow on Borough that does no favours for the already greyish facade.

But stepping into the market area, you immediately forget the drab exterior. There is just no other way because all around you, there are stalls with a whole assortment of the same type of food. Everything screams out at you, 'Look at me! Look at us'. The stallholders need no hard selling. Their merchandise sell themselves.

In one stall, big bowls of olives stuffed with peppers, chili, anchovies, pitted olives, unpitted olives, kalamata olives, green olives.

In another stall, a mountain of coarse white french salt from a particular salt lake, another mound of red salt with blackish specks, green salt speckled with red and yellow and black, flavoured salt with everything you would probably need to spice up a dish.

And then another stall with a pyramid of brownies stacked 10 layers high with the bottom tray about a metre long, all cut up and ready to be served. The brownies have a shiny rough exterior reminding me of homemade brownies mom used to make. Yum. A similar banana cake pyramid sits beside the brownies. Loaves and loaves of bread follow from ciabatta, to a few varieties of focaccia, round loaves, long loaves and littler rolls.

I chanced upon a fish monger which could have easily given the fish market a run for its money with shrimp, yabbies, crabs, all sorts of fresh fish, octopi. It was so fascinating I stood there gaping for a while, trying to read the names of all the fish and seafood on sale. But ee lin was impatient to go on so we moved on to the butcher which had thick slabs of red meat on display. A suspicious looking form turned out to be wild rabbit and a darker version similar to that, hare. Quite a few stalls sold ostrich meat and eggs.

Even the fruit and vegetables look fresher than any I've seen in sydney. The oranges had a deep orange quality about them, like someone had mixed some vermillion in their colour. There were about 10 different types of mushrooms, with one particular variety that bruised a purplish shade, perhaps magic ones? =)

I could go on forever but moving on to our lunch.

Everyone in Borough wander around in the search for a meal that would most satisfy their palates. People in Borough do not settle for the quickest and most convenient food. Borough is not the place for that. McDonald's serves that purpose.

There are stalls serving up wraps with cous cous and freshly stir fried assorted vegetables, stalls selling ostrich burgers, bratwurst with salads and not just your ordinary bratwursts but bratwursts flavoured with herbs, chili and other what-have-yous. Stalls selling your regular burgers, stalls selling freshly made sandwiches.

We settle for a salted beef sandwich with tomato ciabatta and 3 different mustards. At the same stall, they were also selling freshly roasted pork and crackling sandwiches. The colours of the fresh out of the oven roasts were simply amazing... shades of orange and brown and the steam from the pork as they cut the roasts up. It's no wonder there was a long queue for that stall.

It was a real pity the camera batteries were flat. I'll have to go back again soon.

I think London has left a good impression on me so far

All thanks to christine, I have internet connection at home now. Whoopee!

It's great knowing these people here in the UK. Firstly, even though we haven't seen each other in ages or kept in regular contact, christine has made me feel very welcomed here.

Check out the picture of moo moo and me. Picked up Moo moo at Changi airport and was initially hesitant about getting anoher eeyore. Afterall, I already have 2 of em. So decided to have dinner first before deciding.

After dinner, Jo and I swung by the shop again and that was when I realised the other 2 eeyores had weird faces. Definitely not as cool as Moo Moo who had a nice smile and a confident ' I know I'm so cute' expression. That was when I decided he was a winner and I had to take him with me. The 12 bucks were definitely well spent.

Moo moo has been my bestest companion this entire trip. He was tucked snug under my chin as I slept throughout the plane ride. He's quite attention seeking and likes to muzzle butt me in the face. He also has a cute butt with a pink bow on his tail and a blue pin to keep his tail in place. Plus he has an awesome mohawk and ears that are always hidden by his big face. He loves being a baby and likes head banging to god knows what tune in his head. I'm so glad I have him here!

Finally! Internet connectivity!

I can't imagine life without it.

Got into london on the Sunday morning after a long flight throughout which I was mostly dead to the world. British Airways are SHITE but thank god my sleep deprived few days exhausted me so I got through the plane ride relatively unscathed. Had to change my seat because the reclining function wasn't working properly but otherwise, couldn't really give a fuck about the inflight movies (which were horrendous) or the food (which i skipped mostly).

I've always wondered about those long plane rides where you put two people who are relatively the same age next to one another. I think it was some movie or book where this airport check in person thought herself to be cupid, matchmaking unsuspecting air travellers via seat allocations. Anyway, I've always been "lucky" to be seated next to older folk... well actually, once on a trip back from Sydney, I was seated next to some islander young man whom I had a good chat with and ended up exchanging email addresses although that's where the story ended.

Anyway, getting to the point, I was seated next to a BBC (british born chinese) on this flight to London. He seemed to be a really nice guy but honestly, I could barely keep my eyes open and I really wanted him to just leave me alone. Thank god for the seat change.

At the baggage claim area, this guy suddenly pops out of nowhere and starts helping me out with my bags. It was 5ish in the morning and I was desperate for a coffee but he was in a rush to leave the airport and herded me towards the train. I would have been pretty happy to figure things out myself with a much needed coffee in hand!! BUT i was too polite to say so and allowed him to lead me away from starbucks and into the underground. *sob*

Anyway, he handed me his name card ( found out he's a fresh grad who just started work a couple of months back ie still a baby, but obviously, he tried to hide that fact. How typically male) which is still lying at the bottom of my bag, gathering dust.

I love my new life of solitude!

It's great having my own apartment space. I could if I wanted to, prance around naked from the bedroom to the living room to the kitchen to the hall to the toilet. But no, I have yet to try that. Mainly because I live on the second floor and the curtains are hardly drawn.

Everyone has been telling me that I'm living on prime real estate but I have yet to see it that way. I like my apartment and all but this area has nothing going for it other than the fact that I am moments away from the London eye, and Dali Universe. In fact, my bedroom window looks right into the Dali Universe. With a reasonable pair of binoculars, I could probably examine all the art works on display without paying the 9 pounds entrance fee!

I try to look on the positive side of things and tell myself that walking 35 minutes into the office is great exercise but I can't get over how bleak things are around me. No quaint restaurants or cafes. It's an attas (high society) area you see and everything looks cold and unwelcoming, unless you have money to burn which I obviously do not. Any ho, it's early days yet so maybe I will begin to see how wonderful this place is in time.

It's been a fantastic weekend or so they say. The weather in London has been good. A tad warm for me as I have been traipsing through the city and being quite scared of the cold, I cautiously brought out a thick cardigan and a woollen coat which I then hung around my skinny arms for most of the day out Monday. I'm so weak. Certainly dampened my shopping mood albeit just a tad.

Anyway, the sun was out in London but the city still looked grey. Perhaps largely due to the grey architecture. There are so many old buildings here. The city is quite filthy and some streets remind me of India with the rubbish piled up at the sides and the overpowering stink of piss. A few people have asked me if I like London. I'd say I'm pretty happy with my life here at the moment but then again, that's more because of the personal space I have here rather than the impression the city has left on me.

Londoners are definitely less friendly than australians. Few out of the many faces that stare back at me each day as we cross paths smile back at me. Perhaps two a day? Whereas in Sydney, it is common place to smile at people waiting together at the lift lobby, people who enter the lift, people sitting at the next table in the cafe etc. Such is the scarcity of a smile that when it happens, it feels all the more special.

Shopping on the other hand is fabulous!

OH MY FUCKING GOD!

Not sure who gave me the advice to shop at Oxford Street but good advice that was. I woke up on Sundy morning and bought a ticket and took the underground to Oxford circus. The underground is so easy to use. Sydney pales in comparison. But then again, a certain internet source purported that Sydney has one of the worst public transportation system in the world. They probably are only considering metropolitan cities but I'm glad someone agrees with me.

Anyway, I was greeted by a huge Selfridges store front the minute I stepped of the train. I couldn't contain my excitement and glee! If shopping signs could flash in my eyes they would! *kerching*

I couldn't contain my excitement but had to share it with Marty and Jolene so I made long distance phonecalls to both of them just to gush about the huge array of merchandise available. Imagine this, Mango took up four floors of shops and had different items on each floor and all only women's stuff. No cheating!

Topshop took up four floors with one floor for Topman.

Unbelievable! I need a gf here to go shopping with me!!! How can one live fulfilling shopping life if one does not have a gf to share it with?

But however tempting the urge was to just splurge, I exercised some self control and bought nothing at all. Before the UK bank account gets set up, I need to keep a tight rein on my outgoings.

It's been a hectic few days back home. Once again, I find the insomaniac in me and I think I may have found the cause. Potent teh (tea). Ever the teh ping (iced milk tea) fan, I've been loading up on the good stuff at every opportunity and I find myself able to go all night without sleep and into the next day without much difficulty. Last night was a fine example. I had tea at the Ritz with Joy and then after which, met up with Jason and had more tea. By the end of the night or should I say morning, when I got home at 6am, I was bright eyed and bushy tailed.

So this morning, since i had nothing better to do anyway, i started scouring websites on spas and facial packages available. Jason is getting married in May and in the process of helping him come up with a honeymoon, i came up with the bright idea of a spa getaway at one of those Banyan tree resort like places. And to convince the soon t0 be newly weds, what better way than to give them a couple day spa getaway to see if they like it. I'm not one of those girls who feel a need to periodically pamper themselves but on the occasions when I have done so, it has always been fantastic. I hope they like the present.

It's a real pity I won't be able to attend Jason's wedding. Jason is a good friend and it sucks not being able to share such a special day. It's times like this that make me think perhaps Sydney was a bad idea, but only briefly.

This trip home this time around has cemented further the certainty that I will not be coming back. Except on holidays of course. Aside from the fact that work in Sydney is so much better, I have realised that life here just doesn't agree with me in general. I think it has something to do with the weather, how claustrophobic it can get and also the urban landscape and definitely the neighbourhood I live in. I miss Bishan and I miss Glebe.

On a brighter note, jolene's problem seems to have a bit more clarity and I guess that makes me feel more at ease. I realise I am prone to paranoia and tend to extrapolate various outcomes from a given situation. I think that may be a large part of my downfall... this incessant worrying about nothing and everything but I guess I don't like surprises. Or I think I don't like surprises. So i second guess every possible move and then when it happens, that way i can go... there! I told you so to myself or whoever. Of course, sometimes it may become a self-fulfilling prophecy (but who knows). Anyway, I may have been negative about jo's situation initially but it doesn't seem half as bad now that everything has come to light. At least something is being done.

On an even happier note, I got a fantabulous dress as a bday present from Jo. A tube dress with a cloth rose near the bust. One of those great dresses that will never go out of style. Unfortunately, I have grown too skinny to fit into anything and the dress will have to be altered and as such, I will not get it til I come back after the UK stint. DARN!

Brief summary of stuff that has transpired:

Most received comment: it's a tie between "You lost weight (No... really?)" and "when are you getting hitched"

Most pleasant surprise: Bumping into Winston at wala's

Music I'm currently listening to: Phantom of the opera

Mood: TIRED!

http://www.flickr.com/photos/56168029@N00/

Birthday pictures!!

Marty was really good to organise the party and even went to the extent of baking a cake for me.

He's come a long way since the days of "let my girlfriend and her flat tyre rot for all I care"

Thank you for everything Marty poopy.... The camera is awesome

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You know how people get excited about a holiday and can't sleep the night before, how when they look forward to something that's a long way away, time slows to a crawl and the day seems so unbelievably far off and doesn't seem to draw any nearer, and how usually, the night before, they stay up all night the night before, wide awake with excitement?

Well... I didn't even feel a tinkly of anything which I think is either because I wasn't too enthused about coming home and going to the UK OR all my excitement cells have taken a holiday, perhaps trying to avoid the chemical abuse I have been putting myself through lately.

I actually suspect it's more of the latter.

It's been a long while since I've felt any enthusiasm for anything. Not to say that I'm unhappy, I am rather contented (except with work) but something seems to be missing. The only time I felt a remote tinkle of happiness was at my recent birthday and even then, the feeling dissipated pretty quickly.

My dopamine levels must be low...

I mean, reading past blog entries (circa 2005), one can see how different a person I am. I worry that I have become an apathetic lump of coal. Worry and apathy sounds like a contradiction but I miss my old self! and my logical side has come up with this explanation.

As such, I have decided to embark on a detox. If my diagnosis is true, hopefully this and my trip to the UK will sort me out.

A week or two ago, a friend of mine got propositioned by a married guy. She declared however, that she didn't do married men and never would, much to my relief. I mean, however unconventional society has gotten now, I myself would still like to believe in the sanctity of marriage. Especially since going out with Marty and realising that "nice guy" wasn't an oxymoron.

My relief was shortlived.

I don't want to sound like I'm stereotyping Singaporean men, I do acknowledge that decent nice Singaporean men exist (like some of the Singaporean boys in Sydney) but more often then not, Singaporean men are insipid jerks who are never satisfied with their lot.

Anyway, it's strange now being in Sydney and sheltered from the real world by Marty's goodness. It wasn't too long ago that my life was filled by horrible Singaporean men. I'm amazed I can forget how evil and horrible people can be but for now, I can't see how Marty could ever betray me and never even feel a shred of insecurity.

And so, what with my friend's life going slightly askew, I can't help but wonder what's going on in the minds of modern Singaporeans.

I remember not too long ago, when said friend and I were still in uni, a couple of married people around us started having affairs and getting divorced. I think I was going through an emo phase then and such news was definitely not chicken soup for the soul. I was jaded. Said friend was horrified too that her bosses at work were mucking around.

Seriously, which girl grew up having thoughts of leading a life filled with lies, affairs and subterfuge? I think my prince charming dreams were shattered then and we realised that it was something we should never be surprised at because that was what the real world was like.

So, many failed relationships later, however much of Marty's goodness rubs of me and no matter how I can't imagine him cheating on me, even if he did, it wouldn't be that big a blow compared to the first few betrayals. I guess, that's a fine example of jadedness.

But the point that I'm trying to make is not so much how I feel about someone cheating on me but more, what do you say to a friend when they tell you that they've gone and slept with a married man.

Tsk tsk?

Crucify them?

Be supportive like a good friend should? I personally have problems with helping friends down the road to perdition. But maybe, the degardation of societal mores will one day make affairs acceptable. Just like sexual equality and rock and roll. And MAYBE, it is now acceptable, back in Sunny Singapore. Who knows, I may just be out of touch! Ah the relief now washes over me. Suddenly everything makes sense again...... NOT!

Sigh

I'm going to talk about happy things although I don't feel very happy at the moment. In fact, that's the precised reason why I shall only talk about happy things today.

I'm more excited about going to the UK.

Christine sent me an email with my UK work schedule so now I can actually see my name on the London office work schedule. I'm slated to start on the 2 April. That probably isn't going to materialise as I have classes in Sydney on the 1st of April. But things are beginning to feel a whole lot more concrete and I know they want me!

Plus, just received news that there are a whole lot of us in the UK at the moment. Us being NTU graddies who started at PwC Singapore at the same time. In fact, around the period April - June this year, a good 25% of us will be there. How amazing is that?

I've also decided to take next week off. By hook or by crook. I need a break. Desperately.

So that is another plus to look forward to.

So there. My life is OK

another tough day at work for me again.

I've begun to suspect that I may just be really inept at what I do. Why else do I always find myself at the losing end of a tug of war battle, always getting shit from everyone else. Managers, staff, clients...

Today Gillian gave me shit about not getting enough staff on the job and not behaving like a senior and not getting the actuaries to review the actuarial notes. It's not like I haven't been trying to get people on the job. I've been sending emails, calling, sending messages. Wasting half my day coordinating junk like that which I could have put into more productive purposes otherwise. And, she forgot she told me she would sort out the actuarial notes. Sigh

Deadline's tomorrow.

I'm so over all this crap

The sight of financial statements make my skin crawl.

Lately I've been thinking about home quite a bit.

It's been ages since I've gone back proper. The last time was a 4 day 3 nighter in August to celebrate Dad's 60th. And the thing that I tell everyone is that, not going back home for a holiday is actually a good thing because it makes life here a whole lot more permanent.

The less I travel home, the more attached I am to the life here.

At least that's what I feel.

So it's really strange that having not been back home (well barring a pathetic weekend trip), I've suddenly been thinking about home alot.

And random images of Singapore flash through my mind at the oddest of times.

Like just now, I was lying in bed getting ready for sleep and suddenly, in my mind's eye I could see the shelves and shelves of books at borders and remember how it felt to be standing there, usually just browsing to past time before meeting someone else in that area. This image quickly turned into an image of the book cafe in mohd sultan, then little india with it's busy roads and bright colours and then Derrick's place. The last one isn't surprising. Some pretty awesome nights were spent there I must say. Makes me feel so nostalgic, these places feel like they are just minutes away.

Memories are funny things.

Was also chatting with Zhiying today. So much have changed in our lives and we have been half way across the world from each other for maybe 3-4 years now it's hard to keep up. Some people say that good friends will always remain good friends but if people can't even maintain long distance relationships in love, why should friendship be any different?

The worst thing about long distance friendships is that the deterioration is usually too subtle to even realise it has happened until of course the irreversal is done. I'm going to bring up an old cliche to illustrate this point. The only constant is change. People change. Some more so than others of course. Priorities change, sense of humour changes, interests change.

I feel I have changed. Quite dramatically. It's hard to say for the better or worse.

But honestly, at this stage, it's too late to get my knickers into a knot trying to figure out if this change is good or bad for me or whether my life will get better or worse because of it. It feels ok at present but my life does have a tendency to throw me a curve ball whenever I feel a sense of stability.

I guess I must be a pessimist because I always envision these curve balls, no matter how positive they always seem initially, end up with me, a spinster, old and miserable in a studio apartment all alone, withering away.

*shudder*

And London is potentially one of those curved balls.

almost famous / Ribs & rump

Just found out last week that we were almost famous.

We were out celebrating Ceez's birthday two fridays ago at the shelbourne and our picture got taken and posted on the shelbourne website. We were obviously the cool kids! Yay!

I refused to succumb to my asian calling even though my arm was most tempted to spring up into a "V". The guys made up for me though.

Everyone (cept my sober self) were so thrashed they had no recollection of this photo. Wahaha!

More pictures will be available soon when Ceez gets round to uploading the photos.

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Went out to Ribs & rump in Gordan last night. I had heard good things about it and was quite excited.

The ribs were quite good. Tasty and tender. Very YUMMY!! but the most impressive thing about it was the size of them. The full rack of ribs were larger than an A4 sheet of paper. WAH!! Took several pictures of the massive ribs and will upload them as soon as I get the pictures of Marty's phone.

I only ordered half a rack which looked pretty attemptable when it first arrived. I got through half of what was on my plate and was beginning to feel quite full and pondering if I should force myself to finish off the rest and I would have had I notflick the rack over and was shocked to find another smaller rack hiding beneath. It was then that I decided to just da bao it all home. It would just be impossible to finish anyway.

Luke was disgusted at my poor attempt at the ribs. hee hee

In my defence, I ate one whole potato as well.

One whole baby potato =)

My emotional state of mind feels like a roller coaster nowadays and it's so exhausting.

I guess it's partly genetic make up. In that way, I'm so much like my mom it terrifies me.

Why can't I be a jack-in-the-box, bouncing back after any setback.

I actually think this kind of "omigod i screwed up hence I'm such a screw-up and it's eating me up inside" attitude is very David but I CAN'T HELP MYSELF.

Even something like forgetting to respond to an email bothers the hell out of me.

I mean, granted I'm not the most organised person in the world, but at the same time, I have a trillion and one work related "to-dos" on my mind and keeping on top of things is no walk in the park so really, i shouldn't be to hard on myself if I forget one thing but I just find it impossible to let go which makes my life miserable.

My greatest fear is one day, I'll become a David.

How very awful.

And it's not only work.

I've just become this worry wart. I worry about everything from work, to what will become of my relationship if I go to the UK for 3 months (which is another story), to how much tax materials I have to bring for my tax exam in the UK and hence I will have less space for my numerous clothes bags and shoes and my potential overseas purchases.

And the worst thing is, it's sometimes even unconscious.

Make mental note to self - "Focus on positives"

Maybe swearing less will make me a more positive and happier person. I'll give that a shot! Happy people never swear. Obviously most people would think that happy people do not need to swear but then, maybe it's the swearing that make people unhappy.

^*&^(*&)(

what can I say?

My life has been pretty excellent this last week.

Firstly, the housemate Gareth has turned out to be a pretty OKAY dude. He joined me in the city for Ceez's birthday celebration but more on that later.

I have done jack all work for this week mainly because I have been in a sort of celebratory mood.

It actually started last week with me feeling absolutely bummed out about work. If ever there were any professions that invoked emotional instability, auditing would definitely be one of the top few. It's so tiring always trying to impress different people and feeling so out of control of most of the factors that impact on your performance. Add to that, everyone hates us.

So anyway, I've been in what some people might have called a trough if they wanted to understate how I felt. I consider rut a euphemism as well and would much rather call it being down in the doldrums.

This feeling of despondency and low self-esteem was a product of a really hard year of work in 2006 without any back patting "good job done" thank yous from the people above and an unexpected lull in work which has given me much more time to think and realise. DAMN. I HATE MY JOB!!

Finally, however hard I had tried internalising this, it started to show and the quality of my work started slipping. I sighed unconsciously all the time. Unable to hold it in any further, I fessed up to Gillian (my manager) that I'd lost my audit mojo who then advised that I speak to Voula (partner) and my mentor aka SDM - Damian.

It's astonishing how much of a difference a little complement can make. After the brainwashing from two partners who heaped loads of praises, audit suddenly didn't feel too bad. I felt inspired. I felt I could change the world with my audit procedures. I felt like... SUPER AUDITOR!!

NOT.

A half hour later, I was spotted moping around the office waiting for time to pass. As a saying in Hokkien goes, Pa Bang!

But at least, now I know where I stand at work. Gillian advised me to ask for the moon saying, "Mindy, the partners are willing to bend over backwards to help you out. You should demand for things. Get what you really want for once."

If only I knew what that was.

The secondment to the UK may sound really exciting but I think my main purpose is just an opportunity to rock the boat a little by changing my surroundings. It's really an opportunity to escape really. And if I don't get it, nothing would have changed because something tells me it's not so much the environment but the work.

But i guess, I'll just have to wait and see how things happen in the next few weeks.

Some somber news to share.

Last year, I met Chris whilst holidaying in Melbourne. He was such a sweet soul it was hard not to like him. Gentle, generous and with a slight sense of humour, he was easy to get along with and the few days we hung out with Jean and bobo, to Mount Dandenong, Mrs Marples to his favourite breakfast place, to bortsch, vodka and tears were enjoyable in a peaceful relaxing way.

Last year, Chris' cancer metastasized and he passed away peacefully in his sleep last Saturday.

which then makes me wonder about mortality. I know it's so cliche but isn't it always the case? and then when you think about death when you're not reminded by it, people think you are morbid and avoid talking to you.

One thing I've realised, most people unconsciously avoid talking about death. It's the epitome of a taboo subject. How morbid, to go around thinking of the hundred and one ways one could leave this world.

But then again, if there are scientists out there who invest their time studying wasps to the extent that we now know how a wasp can hijack a cockroach by injecting a chemical into its nervous system which then allows it to manipulate the cockroach feelers much like a joystick, allowing it to ride the cockroach like a horsey (and this is true or the internet is lying), then surely the contemplation of death should not be frowned upon because it sure as hell (no pun intended) appears to be more important.

I don't mean to sound like I'm poking fun at the topic of death.

I do feel sad.

Just that random thoughts in my head got the better of me I guess.

On a lighter note, it's great that Gene is here now. Haven't hung out really in two years almost? At first it seemed that perhaps this arrangement was a potential recipe for disaster (jolene suggested we would be tearing each others throats out or maybe she suggested I would be the one tearing?) but after the first few hiccups which were ironed out quickly, things seemed to have settled into a nice routine. I hope I haven't jinxed it by writing it out.

Marty poo (yes it's his new name) has a new playmate and so have I.

We found another housemate over the weekend. He's Gareth. English. Very stiff upper lip. To the point. Little sense of humour or at least our brand of humour. Very into sports I must say because he mentioned that if we were getting foxsports, he'd spend all his days at home glued to the telly. Gene suggested tweaking his upper lip when we get to know him better.

Interesting times ahead.

It's been a while since the last update.

Lots of things have been happening.

First, fell kind of sick and without realising, lost enough weight for everyone to start making comments about it which is good in a way because which girl doesn't want to be thinner? even tracy goes on diets!

Eugene has managed to get his room set up. More set up than mine anyway. He's going to be officially moving all his stuff in tomorrow morning.

It's been really hectic getting the house set up and finding a housemate. Really wish things could settle down into a bit more of a routine. Unfortunately, the housemate we decided on flew our kite with the excuse that he felt pressured to say yes to us. Bummer cos now we have to go through the whole hoohah again.

work has been kinda up and down.

Up because everyone at work has been really nice and encouraging but down because I feel miserable at work. Really unmotivated.

I have the best boyfriend in the world.

He's so great everyone who meets him loves him.

He's always cheerful and optimistic.

He's always good for a hug and a cuddle.

He's always game to meet up and hang out even though we see each other everyday and even meet up for lunch during the day.

And after all that, he's still not sick of me.

How good is that?

And I claim to be an auditor!

Oh i could so kill myself!

I bought the prettiest pastel pink stripey cotton fabric to sew covers for the $6 couch i purchased 2 weeks ago. the material is absolutely sweet. very laura ashley. I was sooo excited i decided to stay up last night to do it up. My first foray into sewing in 10 years.

I measured up the cushion cover carefully and even wrote down on a piece of paper what the precise measurements should be BUT I have no idea what possessed me and after cutting the fabric, i realised I ended up cutting the material 3 cm short.

shouldn't i be meticulous and organised to a fault?

let me assure you, 3cm is significant when you need a cushion to precisely fit a couch!

why couldn't i have cut it 3 cm too long.

why must the big guy up there do this to me??!!!

if i could, i would have kicked myself.

fortunately, i still had that teeny little bit of self control left in me, if not, i would probably have started a big tanty, kicking my heels into the floor and screaming. Instead, i had a slight whinge, and decided to work with whatever I had. I figured I could at least have a test run.

the cover is still in the making. half way there! yay! it probably wouldn't fit really well but heck! it's a feat in itself. soon, i'll be able to start my own little sweatshop upholstering sofas.

whoopppeee

slow buck here i come!

I'm so fickle minded I astonish even myself.

Just the other day, I felt I needed a change. The reality of what I really am hit me square in the jaw and it's unbelievable that it took me so long to realise that I AM AN AUDITOR.

Oh the horrors!!

How could I have allowed myself to spend the better years of my life cross referencing audit workpapers and checking the adds on financials statements, or even worse, how could I allow myself to become a punching bag for disgruntled clients.

But that was the other day.

Today feels different because I've almost completed a big job and the bosses appear happy so obviously it's a great relief to me and I feel like I can finally focus my energies on making my new place a home.

Also, on the way home the other day, Nab and especially Amy, who are both on my team, thanked me for helping them out during the last couple of weeks. It feels good knowing that I have become a good lead. The kind of person I wished lead me when I was wet behind the ears.

Not that these short-lived feelings of gratification would make huge impacts on my life decisions(Apathy still rules in that department. One can never fight apathy. It just is) but it has at least shelved the ennui temporarily and allows me to justify one more day of existence as a scummy auditor.

Even the word auditor makes my skin crawl. Shudder

Finally moved some furniture into the new place last night and we couldn't have done it if ceez and especially luke did not offer to come by and help. It didn't seem that daunting, given the few possessions that I had, and Marty and I did afterall manage quite well when I was moving out. However, the dining table I purchased on ebay for a hundred bucks, that looked deceptively flimsy in the picture turned out to be a solid chunk of timber. That and the fact that the hall way only extended less than 28 inches across made the move almost impossible. There was no way the table which was more than 30 inches tall could fit in. In the end, we had to dismantle the table and put it together again. Now why didn't we think of that in the first place?

The place seems really awesome and my fingers are crossed. I've decided I'm not posting any pictures until Eugene gets here. It'll be a surprise. Everyone who has seen it has said good things so far and when I say good things, I do not mean the run of the mill, politically correct, lukewarm sort of "compliments" like - yeah it's nice. I mean comments like "Omigod!", "I hate you (for having such a nice place)" is my particular favourite and "this is so cool".

Now, to find an equally cool housemate. *FINGERS CROSSED*

Anyway, the gang last night have decided that the 6 dollar sofa is definitely too horrible to stay in the house and I'm a girl on a mission now. I've scoured the ebay and tradingpost website in the last 12 hours and nothing has come up. Undaunted, I'll be going to Ikea. Not the greatest place in the world but desperation calls for desperate measures.

Hopefully the place will be livable by the end of next week.

We need a party of sorts for the upcoming Australia Day!!