Lagging

I used to love Math. Math was one of my favorite, and one of my best, subjects in school.

At least in high school then.

Give me any 'E' Math or 'A' Math assignment any day, and I'd get it all done in a jiffy.

When it came to the dreaded preparation for exams, everytime I got frustrated and stressed out over Physics or Chinese Literature or Chemistry, I would pick up the Math books and start finding solutions.

Ah, the immense pleasure it gave me - cranking up the brain juices again and reaching enlightenment on my own.

And then, I went to junior college.

The new Math 'C' still got me a little excited, though jolted at the same time. But man, I hated 'F' Math. 'F' Math single-handedly killed all my love and passion for the subject I used to turn to in times of distress.

I could never catch up on the subject. I was always behind the classes. All while trying to grasp the other brand new subjects of Accountancy and Economics.

Slowly, but surely, I started to hate symbols and equations. I shut off during lectures. I pouted and dozed off during tutorials. I kept all the sheets of tutorials and assignments as fresh and crisp as they'd been when they first came out from the photocopying machine. I slacked and I lagged further and further behind.

Three months later, I quit the faculty.

I returned to a single Math class. And I regained my passion too.

No prizes for guessing my final grade for my favorite subject.


In the very same way I loved Math, I love ironing too.

Ah, the pleasure it gives me - the hissing sounds from the steam iron, and the final crisp product that emerges from my meticulous pressing.

But in the very same way I developed a resentment toward Math when I finally could not cope with it, I am beginning to resent ironing. Especially when I stare at the mound of freshly (or maybe not-so-freshly-anymore) laundered but still crumpled clothes I mindlessly throw into the wardrobe.

I am feeling so defeated. I am washing faster than I can iron. And I hate this feeling.

Dear God, please give me the faith, and the strength, and the will to finish all the ironing quick.

Pleeeaaase. Before I start on the next batch of laundry.

*****

Mom: How's the ironing?
ME: Okay, fine. I actually like ironing. (And I can feel Mom's proud beam at the other end of the phone line.) Except hor, I iron damn slow lor.
Mom: Haha. It's ok. It's like that one.
ME: No, I am REALLY slow. Like I iron two shirts in one hour.
Mom: Huh? How come so slow? You cannot iron shirt, is it?
ME: No. Because ironing is very boring, I always end up putting on the Korean drama DVD at the same time. And because it's Korean, I end up having my eyes glued to the screen all the time. So, I iron two shirts in one episode lor.