.:Damn you, Murphy. Damn you to Heck!:.

[I don’t know why I have this sudden urge to write something in Malay. I’m never the most comfortable using the language as a medium of expression, especially so in written terms. Bear with me]

Hari ni ada kisah sedih berlaku.

Macam biasalah, aku pi breakfast kat mamak belakang IMC tu. Yelah, after the morning meeting and duties dah abis, ada la window of about 20-30 mins, so boleh la isi perut and buang isi perut during that time. So, lepas makan, aku dengan bersahajanya (casually) membawa diri ke lobi lif.

[Oh man, that’s just too much effort. The rest of the story will be in English. Not to degrade the language or anything (in fact, I think it is one of the most expressive languages around), but you’re reading the ramblings of a person who had to go for “Kelas Pemulihan Rumusan” back in his MRSM days. I don’t think anyone should be put through that horror, period.]

So there I was, about to enter a jam-packed lift. As I walked in, I noticed that the floors 7,8,9, 11 and 12 were lit up. I pressed the level 18 button and prepared myself for a relatively long lift journey. Little did I know...

Being right smack in front of everyone, I naturally walked out of the lift at the 7th floor, assuming some of those behind me wanted to go out at that floor. As it turned out, only one solitary girl stepped out of the lift. I then turned around to step back in the lift.

Malaysians, being Malaysians, are unfamiliar, I suppose, with the concept of courtesy. Zebra crossings, it must be said, do not facilitate pedestrians in Malaysia. In fact, it is positively a tourist death-trap. Do not ever assume that the car heading your way will slow down once you step foot on that yellow and white strip of death; it will, in all likelihood, speed up instead of slowing down.

Anyhow, as soon as I stepped out, someone in the lift had pressed the ‘Door Close’ button. Naturally I got stuck trying to come in again. No biggie. At the eighth floor, I stepped out again to let my fellow lift-hoggers through, assuming all the time of course that it is plainly visible that I was simply trying to be courteous.

But it was not to be.

Again, only one single girl stepped out. Again, some imbecile had pressed the ‘Close Doors’ button. Again I got stuck. Someone muttered, “he don’t know which floor la. Aiyoh…”

Hello? Isn’t it obvious that I had pressed the level 18 button?

I gave up trying to be courteous then.

Lo and behold! The rest of the pack then decided to jostle me around like a chicken in a coop along with 500 other feathery friends as they all made a rush to exit the lift at the next floor.

*sigh*

At least I’ve managed to prove Murphy right this time around.

.:Hot Co-Eds!!!:.

My dear Constant Reader,

I am so glad that the heading finally got your attention, old chap. It is, admittedly, rather not my style to be copying spam headlines in my email inbox as the title of a post, but nonetheless, it was my sincere wish to gain your inestimable attention that led me to do it. That, and the fact that the other choice was "17-inch pe*** extensions!!", which obviously will not work as well, if you do not mind me saying so.

I digress. The purpose of this post is to direct your attention to the setting up of my photopage at mayomyth.fotopages.com. I will hopefully be updating it as frequently as I do update this page (which means to say not very often, but I will try my best. Scout's honour and all that.)

I do hope you are keeping well, and I do hope to speak to you again soon. In the meantime, I remain,

Very affectionately yours,

Ahmad

.:Yadda yadda yadda (incoherent mumblings)...... yadda."

Has it been that long, dear readers? the difference between the date for today's post and teh date of the last post seems to confirm this sneaking suspicion of mine that it HAS been an eternity in blogging terms since I last updated (oh, I should SO be awarded the Nobel prize or the Booker prize or the "whatever-it-is-they-award-people-who-have-moments-of-staggering-mental-clarity" prize for that particularly brain-stretching conclusion).

Anyway, time really flies when you're having fun. Work's been, well, work. Tiring and unpleasant at times, a huge rush and fun TBH at other times. I've been spending more time with Farah in the last two months than I've ever had in the last year. She's a breath of fresh air in this dull life of mine. Pity she's leaving for dublin soon. *sigh* And back into cold storage for you, dear heart o' mine.

It was good to see Mel again; I'm glad I've actually made my peace with her, and we could be friends again. It was also great to see the gang again; my, how your close friends never really change, they just grow a little older (and broader) every time you see 'em.

Lately, I keep getting woken up several times at night, thinking it was already 6 am and it's time to go off to work. A quick check on the clock would usually reveal it was only 2.30am or something of that sort. This would usually repeat itself every half an hour till I get to 6 am.

Am I stressed out? I'm always under stress, anyway.

Am I depressed? I don't think so. I'm sad that farah's leaving, but I'm dealing with it.

Or am I?

Mood: Neutral
Reads: Sherlock Holmes (of all things) - Hey, it takes me back to my younger days... so buzz off!
Listens: Snow Patrol; "Run"