From Chill To Ill

I thought I was really lucky. I actually still am gloating over it.

Some people waited for ten months. Some, a year.

I am only one-month-old here, and I've already had my first Typhoon Holiday.

No big fuck, really. Not especially when you are already at work, and you have to squeeze and shove your way home.

The one I'm really waiting for is the one where you don't even have to crawl out of bed in the morning.


So I got home at four. Took a shower. Dressed in my PJs. Popped in Episode 3 of my new Kamsahamida series. Fluffed the pillow. Tucked myself nicely under the fleece. And decided that was where I was going to stay put the entire night.

Except by seven, I suddenly starting sniffing and coughing really hard. The throat became scratchy. The face started heating up. And by eight, the flu bug had successfully stripped me of my voice.

I decided that lying down watching DVDs was the crime. So I got up, did laundry, ironed some clothes, took a con-call. Of course, running was out of question.

By ten, I couldn't take it anymore. That was also when I realized, if this Typhoon Holiday was to take place for three consecutive days, I might have ended up dead and alone in my apartment. How to survive with only apples and pears and soya milk?

I put on my clothes again, took a walk on the streets looking for munch, and found myself back at somewhere more like home. No, worse than home. I think Clementi Central looks more busy with life-form at this hour.

The cafe was closed, so were most other muncheries. I didn't see any yellow-skinned life-form on the street, only the white-skinned ones. I thought this might be a prelude to the Lunar New Year holidays. I ended up lugging the lappie for nothing.

Two rounds of walking later, I decided to rest my ass at a tiny Japanese restaurant.

It was Friday night, after all. I really do miss the Friday beef carpacios and sakes with the chick.



And of course, I got take medicine lah.