I've just been really, really exhausted from the tedious meeting, the short-but-very-busy weekend home, and all the non-stop events in between. In fact, I don't think I've recovered from the fatigue, yet I'm busy churning out miles on the treadmill.
If I don't work hard, I can't play hard. Nor eat much. That's how sad turning 31 really is.
Tonight, I brought work home but I am too lazy to pull out the stupid computer now. I had a good speed work on the machine, a nice meal of miso-egg soup (yes, who ever dumps a raw egg into miso soup?), a hot bath, and now the droning of the washing machine only threatens to put me to zzz.
I'll work on my pictures and writing instead.
Just only three days back in the Singer land, but it had been really busy and eventful. As tired and severely zzz-deprived as I might have been, it had been really fulfilling.
It was a vacation of sorts, but I never did sleep in nor rest enough. I couldn't. Out of all 63 hours, I reckon almost 52 of them had been well-spent with beloved people.
Awesome.
Friday morning, I barely got home from the airport and a quick round of fish porridge supper (at River Valley!) and slumbered into bed, before Mom woke me up at 7 so I could crawl over into my ex-bed (where two adults, one kid and two dogs used to reside every single night) and lie next to my boy. Boy, surprise him I did.
I couldn't sleep anymore with all the action on bed. And the eagerness in the boy's eyes couldn't make me refuse walking him to school. Ah well, good time too to sit at the kopitiam and sip one cup of kopi-o on my way home.
I spent the rest of the morning, slurping up one entire pot of Mom's black chicken soup and keeping the other one stuck close to me. The other little monkey.
My own two girls, of course, had been hysterically crazy from the moment I stepped through the front door. Nothing would keep me out of their sight, neither them out of mine. Happy as they were, they were also looking rather unkempt.
I'd be a good mom this time, I'd bring them for a haircut. I'd also be a good daughter, I'd bring my mom out for lunch - to my favorite yong tau foo, of course.
I dropped the mom and little monkey at home, then took the ritual trip to Dean myself.
"My hair's boring, I don't know what to do with it. I feel like cutting it short."
"No! Don't! Keep it long."
"Yeah, I can't, even if I really wanted to. Unless I marry a rich man in HK so I can fly back every 3 weeks for a trim."
So I wasn't allowed to chop off my hair. Instead, I got more choppy waves in my hair.
"Did you perm your hair?!"
"Have you ever permed my hair for me?"
"No..."
"Then no!"
Yeah, my wonderful curls do amaze. And this time, I let him do the bangs - again.
"Okay, o-kay. You can cut my fringe. Just not that 'toot toot' one again, please."
So I think I'm mostly happy with my new hair. Less boring, but rather rebellious at times. I give up. I continue to live in ponytails and my multitude of headwear.
I picked up the girls on my way home. Just past 5. Great, I could do with a much-needed nap before heading out again for the ritual Friday night fare (read: booze and songs) with my chick.
But the monkey and the chimpanzee, and the two dogs, kept me busy the whole time. Mom was glad she could for once prepare dinner in peace.
I made brunch plans with the other bestie the next morning. And for once, I didn't feel like I have to have local fare. I was browsing through a magazine at Dean's when some article in the food section caught my eye.
I took the address and phone number down in my blackberry, emailed the bestie about the new place I found, and we were both happy to try something different.
I have always driven past the Fairways Drive along Eng Neo almost every morning for years. But I have never known what lies beyond those old gates. That morning, I was w-o-w-ed.
Between Mimolette and Riders Cafe, I chose the latter, because it looked more quirky while the former looked a tad too atas. A very, very peaceful and lovely way to spend a lazy weekend brunch, if not for the fact we had to keep the two boys from mischief.
"You always bring your nephew everywhere you go. Aren't you afraid guys mistake you for a married woman?"
"Do I care?"
I obviously don't give a hoot. : )
And what's wrong being a married woman? Well er, yes I suppose it is wrong if I am not married in the first place. =/
Yes, I had buffalo wings for breakfast. Yums. And yums yums to the benedict.
I got home past one, and I barely got enough rest, having to entertain the rascals before I had to change up, get some dog chow, then pick PY up for our road trip.
Babysitting is fun - but really exhausting.
I think this man has almost all his assets in these elaborate Lego models.
Impressive, actually. I just hope he's stashed aside some funds for milk powder.
And the real
God, I really miss the driving. But I didn't have to get stuck in traffic for it, no?
Congratulations, you two. And you two, too.
Weddings never fail to make me feel... sigh, happy.
Another breakfast on Sunday morning. And I thought Hanny was going to cook for me - but I doubt he did.
Cheat. Liar. Boo.
Yums anyways. And I miss you guys just that much.
Just a quickie, alas. Rushed home to pack up my stuff, including my Piper.
I was that close to smuggling her back to the Honks.
The encore - a family lunch at one of my favorite food haunts. That awesomely huge and mesmerizing Bedok food centre.
I had almost everything, yet still wanted more.
Some things will probably never change. Like my greed. =/
Goodbyes are never easy.
But they only make the hellos much sweeter.
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