My Life is A Blooming Comedy
Was talking to Ophelia yesterday. Naturally, after such a while of zero contact, we talked mostly about what was going on in each of our lives. I told her about my great friday - last week. Apparently, we came to a topic on making our lives into movies. If Cirrus' life was made into a movie, it would definitely be a drama - minus all that soppy scenes; for Atticus, it would be a martial arts film - which she would do very well in considering her expertise at it *wink*; Sol's would be a documentary - which she seemingly wants it to be, and of course would be very suited for her; now Ophelia's would be a romantic comedy - with all the laughs and all the tears; and for me.. we concluded that it would just be a comedy. It seems that all of my antics, whether intentional or not, just cracks her up. And come to think of it, it would crack me up too, if not for the fact that I am the one involved. Blessed hell..
Well now, I guess it would be deemed appropriate if I were to tell you what the hell cracked Ophelia up last friday. You see, I had a bad day, so to speak. I arrived early at school that day, dressed in white. Yes, white top and white pants. Since it was still early, I decided to get a cup of Teh (milk tea). The teh was contained in a styrofoam cup, with a plastic cap - which I had to pay 5 bloody cents for. It seems that I was unfortunate enough to catch the drinks stall aunty on one of her I-am-still-half-asleep day, coz she did not put on the cap properly. And little overly-trusting me did not bother to check it either. So as you all would have guessed, I got tea stains on me, which I did not notice till I had settled comfortably on my chair in the classroom. Horror upon horror, I noticed not just one big stain, but numerous of stains - both small and big, all over my the front and back of my pant-leg. Don't ask me how the stains got to the back. I don't fucking know.
Of course, I rushed to the restroom to right the mess. Lucky for me, our school has those handicap toilets, with wash basin, hand-dryer and all. I spent the next 30mins doing all I could to get those stains out; that means water, soap and scrubbing. Oh and boy did I scrub. I was halfway there when I suddenly felt that the back of my fingers (joint near the cuticles) were getting dangerously raw. But I still carried on. Soon enough, I felt this horrible sting on the middle finger of my left hand. Any slight movement brought on this excruciating pain. I turned to look at my fingers.. ah no wonder, a piece of skin was scrapped off. And so I hear people comment: you must do very little housework. Oh for fuck's sake. This has nothing to do with the amount of household chores I usually do. The pants, though cotton, happens to be the rough kind of cotton material, and it just ate into my skin alright!.. So I switched to the other fingers. To cut the long story short, I ended up scrapping the skin raw for 3 of the fingers on my left hand, and the pointer for my right. Damn did it sting. There was even this sticky, transparent water seeping from the wound. To sum it up, PAIN!!!
Oh and to add on to my embarassement, I accidentally walked into the wrong class on my way back. Blessed Hell. And since the blooming school does not sell any plasters, I had to tolerate scrapping the wounds now and then, for the next 2 hrs, until my friend arrived with that precious box of plasters.
That's not the end of it. The day went on relatively fine, though I was half asleep for most of the lessons, much to my surprise & disdain. So I met the colleagues for supper that night. And just so happens, my plasters were in dire need of a change. Thus, I had to get one of them to bring some plasters down. When they saw the raw wounds, they actually made quite a fuss about it. And well since we were standing near the cafe, the people actually looked out to see what all the fuss was about. Uh huh..
That night, I arrived home about 3am, so by the time I was ready to sleep, it was nearing 4am. I suddenly felt this tight bloated feeling in my abdomen. I am certain that I did not over-eat, coz I remember feeling just contented and full, but not overly so. The pain was a dull pounding, but it did get a little worse after a while. Thinking that it's the usual gastric, I decided to ignore it and go to sleep. Waking up that morning to go to work was just horrid. The pain was excruciating. I just felt bloated, and my whole abdomen just felt like it was being stabbed from the inside. And it wasn't long before I began to feel nauseous, and light-headed. Naturally, I could not attend work, so I had to settle for seeing the doc and getting an MC. He gave me stronger pills, as expected. When I got home, the pain just got worse. I could barely stand I tell you. And I was oh so close to tears. I took the medicine he gave, which worked like a miracle. The pain just subsided within 10mins, leaving me with this body that seemed devoid of any energy. I was so exhausted, I just fell into a deep sleep, which lasted approximately 7-8hrs. I could not even drag myself up to eat lunch. Thank goodness I had abit of food in the morn, otherwise no amount of medicine would be able to help me.
Well, that night I came across this documentary about IBS *irritable bowel syndrome*. And very coincidentally, I was just pondering if that was what I had. Hm... I wonder. Highly possible, considering the fact that I have at least 90% of the symptoms that are usually listed for this syndrome. Better monitor myself.
So well this has been a snippet of comedy in the life of me, dear Raelin. If anyone needs ideas on a comedy, feel free to contact me anytime. I would most possibly give you some real good scenes. Hah..
Well now, I guess it would be deemed appropriate if I were to tell you what the hell cracked Ophelia up last friday. You see, I had a bad day, so to speak. I arrived early at school that day, dressed in white. Yes, white top and white pants. Since it was still early, I decided to get a cup of Teh (milk tea). The teh was contained in a styrofoam cup, with a plastic cap - which I had to pay 5 bloody cents for. It seems that I was unfortunate enough to catch the drinks stall aunty on one of her I-am-still-half-asleep day, coz she did not put on the cap properly. And little overly-trusting me did not bother to check it either. So as you all would have guessed, I got tea stains on me, which I did not notice till I had settled comfortably on my chair in the classroom. Horror upon horror, I noticed not just one big stain, but numerous of stains - both small and big, all over my the front and back of my pant-leg. Don't ask me how the stains got to the back. I don't fucking know.
Of course, I rushed to the restroom to right the mess. Lucky for me, our school has those handicap toilets, with wash basin, hand-dryer and all. I spent the next 30mins doing all I could to get those stains out; that means water, soap and scrubbing. Oh and boy did I scrub. I was halfway there when I suddenly felt that the back of my fingers (joint near the cuticles) were getting dangerously raw. But I still carried on. Soon enough, I felt this horrible sting on the middle finger of my left hand. Any slight movement brought on this excruciating pain. I turned to look at my fingers.. ah no wonder, a piece of skin was scrapped off. And so I hear people comment: you must do very little housework. Oh for fuck's sake. This has nothing to do with the amount of household chores I usually do. The pants, though cotton, happens to be the rough kind of cotton material, and it just ate into my skin alright!.. So I switched to the other fingers. To cut the long story short, I ended up scrapping the skin raw for 3 of the fingers on my left hand, and the pointer for my right. Damn did it sting. There was even this sticky, transparent water seeping from the wound. To sum it up, PAIN!!!
Oh and to add on to my embarassement, I accidentally walked into the wrong class on my way back. Blessed Hell. And since the blooming school does not sell any plasters, I had to tolerate scrapping the wounds now and then, for the next 2 hrs, until my friend arrived with that precious box of plasters.
That's not the end of it. The day went on relatively fine, though I was half asleep for most of the lessons, much to my surprise & disdain. So I met the colleagues for supper that night. And just so happens, my plasters were in dire need of a change. Thus, I had to get one of them to bring some plasters down. When they saw the raw wounds, they actually made quite a fuss about it. And well since we were standing near the cafe, the people actually looked out to see what all the fuss was about. Uh huh..
That night, I arrived home about 3am, so by the time I was ready to sleep, it was nearing 4am. I suddenly felt this tight bloated feeling in my abdomen. I am certain that I did not over-eat, coz I remember feeling just contented and full, but not overly so. The pain was a dull pounding, but it did get a little worse after a while. Thinking that it's the usual gastric, I decided to ignore it and go to sleep. Waking up that morning to go to work was just horrid. The pain was excruciating. I just felt bloated, and my whole abdomen just felt like it was being stabbed from the inside. And it wasn't long before I began to feel nauseous, and light-headed. Naturally, I could not attend work, so I had to settle for seeing the doc and getting an MC. He gave me stronger pills, as expected. When I got home, the pain just got worse. I could barely stand I tell you. And I was oh so close to tears. I took the medicine he gave, which worked like a miracle. The pain just subsided within 10mins, leaving me with this body that seemed devoid of any energy. I was so exhausted, I just fell into a deep sleep, which lasted approximately 7-8hrs. I could not even drag myself up to eat lunch. Thank goodness I had abit of food in the morn, otherwise no amount of medicine would be able to help me.
Well, that night I came across this documentary about IBS *irritable bowel syndrome*. And very coincidentally, I was just pondering if that was what I had. Hm... I wonder. Highly possible, considering the fact that I have at least 90% of the symptoms that are usually listed for this syndrome. Better monitor myself.
So well this has been a snippet of comedy in the life of me, dear Raelin. If anyone needs ideas on a comedy, feel free to contact me anytime. I would most possibly give you some real good scenes. Hah..
posted by Raelin at Wednesday, August 25, 2004
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