<body><script type="text/javascript"> function setAttributeOnload(object, attribute, val) { if(window.addEventListener) { window.addEventListener('load', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }, false); } else { window.attachEvent('onload', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }); } } </script> <div id="navbar-iframe-container"></div> <script type="text/javascript" src="https://apis.google.com/js/plusone.js"></script> <script type="text/javascript"> gapi.load("gapi.iframes:gapi.iframes.style.bubble", function() { if (gapi.iframes && gapi.iframes.getContext) { gapi.iframes.getContext().openChild({ url: 'https://www.blogger.com/navbar.g?targetBlogID\x3d5285808\x26blogName\x3dworlds+upon+words\x26publishMode\x3dPUBLISH_MODE_BLOGSPOT\x26navbarType\x3dBLUE\x26layoutType\x3dCLASSIC\x26searchRoot\x3dhttp://takingavalonapart.blogspot.com/search\x26blogLocale\x3den_US\x26v\x3d2\x26homepageUrl\x3dhttp://takingavalonapart.blogspot.com/\x26vt\x3d3571675512915588525', where: document.getElementById("navbar-iframe-container"), id: "navbar-iframe" }); } }); </script>
Sunday, August 06, 2006

weekend

Sunday is always blog-quiet night. I have nothing much to read online, and coupled with the fact that C goes home on Sunday nights from my house, it gets lonely. I don't have any severe Sunday-to-Monday blues - unless Monday is a big day at a client's, but the quiet blogosphere in a quiet house makes a Sunday night too quiet for good health.


The light in my room is out. C says the capacitor is out of order - whatever a capacitor may be - and the bulb itself is also no longer working. I have to go get another bulb tomorrow. I hate these things.


I need to get Elvis to come and service my air-cons, but I have had no time over the last week, and the house is too much in a mess to invite anyone over. My mom says that if you keep your house super-clean when a contractor comes over, he won't make it as messy when he works on the lights-pipes-aircons etc. in the house, as he would in an already-dirty house. I agree. Also, and this is my theory: have drinks handy, happy contractors are filled with cold liquids on the many hot days of their life. Happy contractors make for satisfied customers. Unless of course, they are the ones who pilfer beer from you by outrightly asking for it when they peer into the fridge, which is what they did to Jan when they came to fix the shelf in her room when she was staying with me.


I need to pay bills again. My electricity bills are way over the top pricey now, because of the aircons, and the fuel price increase. I was speaking to a taxi driver that day, who insisted that I should pay my HDB instalments as far as I can, because "gahmen's money, cannot owe one," and he says he eats two dishes with his economic rice for lunch nowadays, so that can save more money. I guess when my income level is currently close to that of a taxi driver's, I had better take his advice.


I had a dream that someone completely unfamiliar in real life, said to me during a gathering similar to a cell group meeting, that I should eat less because it was obvious that I was fat especially around my bulging tummy. I regularly dream about being fat and the like, after an affirmed discovery of fat around specific body parts. Last night, I grabbed my tummy fat and said aloud, that it was the size of ten ping pong balls, or a kids-size soccer ball. And C said, "I think you should exercise." Hence the dream. I had a similar dream about my thighs once, years back, when I first discovered cellulite on my thighs. In real life before the dream, I called H after my discovery and asked him: "Do you like my thighs? I have cellulite!" And he replied: "You have cellulite, but I like your thighs." Which was the sweetest answer a man could give to a girl when faced with the "Am I fat?" genre of questions. Yet, I still dreamt about my fat thighs. Anyway, will resume my crunches later. I haven't done any exercise this whole week.


I find that having books to read, helps me go to bed earlier. Because of the fact that I need not have to park myself in front of my lousy CRT monitor to view my feeds, instead, I can read in bed (or for tonight, in the lounge since my room light is out), and I shut down the computer much earlier in the night. So much for free reads, books are still the best. Unless of course, I have a functioning laptop.


Which brings me to the end of the lonely Sunday night.


(C is at home doing his work as well as playing WOW as usual, and being a caveman, as all men need to be every once in a while. Caving makes for happy men and thus, happy me.)

Labels: