Secret Gardens

I had things to do. But my eyes and fingers were glued scrolling reading stuffs I found online on my phone. Slowly work progressed in between the loading and reading and phone calls and people coming by. But I just lost it today. Lost of interest. Like, WTH am I doing here? Can I quit my job and do something inspiring for me? But if I do, what will pay off the loans and credit cards that I still have? My panties have no second value at all.

Tired of compiling receipts for claims purposes. Tired of checking other people’s claims. Not wanting to deal with people who are pompous enough to take numbers in chunks to show their greatness when the numbers are smaller in real segregation.

Maybe the tiredness is growing in again. Today I know, I am withdrawing. I don’t want to explain to anyone. I don’t want to speak with anyone. Anything else, I message them on the phone. I let my table clutter as I crack into unopened sunflower seeds. I am sick of everything.

Tallulah is unwell. Now, it makes me feel as if it is my negative aura overpowering onto her. It has happened before. She gets sick whenever it I overflow.

My mood has totally gone off somewhere else in the world. Perhaps it is searching for someone in New Orleans to sit with for coffee. Silently it hearts along with the cats that are named after animals and dolls. To tasting Gumbo and Po Boys for the first time. To experience places and spaces where you never thought existed. Find secret gardens to immerse in.


Some souls are laced in between. This is where I run to put myself in. Invisible but present. Present but observing. Deciding to do so or won’t at all.

Mysterious creature I am. I wonder if my husband knows what sort of craziness he’s stuck with for a long time. It’s like a psychobabble if you poke my brain at all. All seven layers of it. And alas, my children are left without a choice.

Well, good luck to all of them!

Secret Gardens

Partly party, no fully party on. Hard.

So I have been having frustrations about managing this party. Being remote-controlled, and being made to do this and that when it was decidedly a certain way already. I told office that I’m going off to settle my kids when I just had to have this quiet time at the coffee shop by myself, which I did.

I proceeded for lunch with Miss Brown and she laughs at me. I told her I want to quit, won’t participate next year’s arrangement either and I don’t give a sh*t about it. Won’t give a sh*t about concept that no one else can come up with, won’t care, just nada.

“That’s what you said last year and I never believed it. So I know we’ll have the same conversation about it next year!” She kept laughing. Great. I’m a joke.

“So then what about the decorations hoohaas?”

“I just took anything I can. Closed my eyes and just picked the flowers and the whatevers for the f*ckers. Don’t give a sh*t if they don’t match!” She continued laughing at me and pointed out at me, “Yeah, like right you don’t give a sh*t about it. I’m sure they matched.” Bent, hiding my face away from her, I began nodding. “I am a piece of sh*t,” came out from me. She knows me that well.

Now from all the frustrations I had, someone just came to give me chocolate cake. Awww… I mean, it was so literal that the remote control happened on WhatsApp with all of the other support team in it. They could read what the riling about went on last night.

It was agreed that no deco is required. Then last night at 8.00PM, it changed with a message and I found myself sitting on the sidewalk of the mall by 9:30PM dumbfounded about the sh*t I bought trying to pull through for Friday.

This morning I called the support team and told them how to do the table for food serving. Pulled out the crap I bought and told them what is needed, because I won’t be there. Will only concentrate on the food supply my mom is going to prepare for us.

“Like, are you sure you won’t be there hun?” Miss Brown asks with a smirk.

“Well, let them handle the sh*t themselves!” and buried my face again against the table. Which, of course, had her laughing continuously.

After 2 coffees, I am okay now. Just to be prepared for the meeting due at 3:30PM.


Partly party, no fully party on. Hard.

Shrubs can help make happy.

My brain is having an over-spill on things I am not able to comprehend. The internal staff evaluation is due this week, the office party, the manpower collation for business plan, the OPEX expenses, the tracking of mid-year OPEX expenses, the BP, the orders for festive use printing items and the year end calendars etc. Instead, my boss hands over the shelf I got her yesterday from IKEA for me to assemble.

I feel like running the treadmill. But my foot is sore. I have been having plantar fasciitis since April. When getting up, I need to be on my toes first, jump around for a few minutes before attempting to set weight on my heel.

When I got to shop yesterday, I got myself a plant. Looking at the plant this morning makes me feel happy. I hope the plant will do its job well, at keeping my sanity level at sane.

Polyscias Filicifolia 1
So meet my Polyscias Filicifolia. Apparently it’s a shrub. Well, may this shrub make me happy!

I need to walk around a bit. Biting off more than I can chew, all the way to my arse. It is beginning to feel that way.

Have a good day you guys.

Shrubs can help make happy.

Better off to Ikea

I want to customize my page. But I’m beginning to have this downfall to understand things quickly as I go into my 40s. Yes, I do get frustrated that I can’t process as quick as I can, and having to bother people so many times to get it done right; more after, to adjust to how I can make things easier and faster for me in the future.

This perfectionism isn’t perfectionism for me. It is just making this one base time easy for the next thousandth time future application. I frustrate myself today for making the training app PIC losing cool. I suppose it’s more of the feeling of inconveniencing the other party, when I really am their internal customer that they should care for.

So many things in my mind. All random things. The clamor layer of my supervisor is closing in. I am being bad for dismissing her. But her issues are menial and at the level of not even worth mentioning. Most of it are just too dumb to digest for me. Most days, I let her be. Ignore.

Sleepless night the night before. My mind when weary. Traveled into spaces of the unsaid. I can’t. Maybe it would be different if I slept with 5 cats in the same bed. Like having Melon in my face, Teddy in the circle of my belly and Golliwog at the bottom of my feet. Potter in the middle of my legs and Patchi on my back. So long I don’t have their anus on my face. Hahahahaha.

I need a cigarette. This pharmaceutical base company has this policy of taking care of health. So they suck.

And we are in the middle of mid-year assessments. And every other division and department are collating data of 1,001 kinds. Plus an office party that I had to be nominated for to attend and manage for my division.

I’d better off to Ikea.


Better off to Ikea

Chicken with no head.

These 2 weeks has been crazy for me. Headless chicken roaming across my own spaces during the day. And I was really tired at the end of yesterday. 

Elliot kept coming back to my bed asking me to get up this morning. He insists of getting to school early. I went down and found my boys useless at feeding themselves cereal that they can just prepare themselves. My eldest said there is no milk. Then changed to say, maybe there is. As I got to the fridge he tells me he didn’t check.

Sent them to school early as requested. Stopped buy to get some breakfast for home and lounged myself back on the bed. It is now past 8.00AM and I had decidedly wanting a cigarette. I haven’t bathed. Work starts at 8.30AM and there is audit on today. Why do I do this to myself? And now I need to poop.

I really can self-obstruct myself. 

Chicken with no head.

When your brain speaks louder than it should, you’ll have a sleepless night.

For some reason, I wanted to help feed the people. The ones in my office. Just because I feel the need to provide.

I was sleepless on Saturday night. Or Sunday morning. Doesn’t matter, I only slept at 5:30AM. My mind went completely loud, mind mapping into the yonder, and it was a roller coaster ride with me telling myself in the most calm method that only I can understand, “Please shut the f*ck up. You need sleep.” But hey, who listens to me anyway haha? I was even calculating cost and how much to sleep counting waving my fingers in the dark.

So on Sunday I went up to social media asking interest for Mushroom Cheese Fusilli. Sunday night, I began cooking. Then what I didn’t have was whipping cream, apparently ours has soured; and parmesan cheese in bigger shreds or block, is not there. So I used whatever type of cheese we had in the fridge, including cheddar and low fat milk.

I really am sorry that the product is not produced at my own standard. It didn’t turn out to be like how I used to make them. Slightly wet but carbonara-ish, if it makes any sense in me explaining it. There’s chicken, capsicum, mushroom, garlic and onion. But it doesn’t go sticky in stickiness of cheese. I fear it is not like-able.

Then the kids kept walloping the pasta while I making them. In the media, I was calling out for 20 moderately sized packs of pasta. As it turned out one box produce 17 bowls of pasta instead of 20. The kids have eaten 2 bowls of it.

My intention is to provide alternative food for the staffs with moderate earnings. I am tired. It is with intention that I shall probably have a 10-minute zone out in the storeroom hoping no one will want to walk in today.


When your brain speaks louder than it should, you’ll have a sleepless night.

This sunken feeling.

I finally took the car. I feel remorse. Despite the fact I wasn’t paid back for 22 schedules of car installment. Despite the fact I still have $600 owing to the police for summons I did not make. Despite the fact the car is dented and knocked front bumper left unclipped. 

Why? Because my SIL4 is having a rough time. Her kids would lack transport to get to school. She will not be able to move to get money for her household. But her husband remains. Nobody knows what he is doing for their household. And his mother keeps pushing the wife to do random things to provide, where she in the end surrenders all monies to him.

Truthfully, I think she is better off without him. 

I help her when I can. It is always for her and the kids. Not him. But he benefits from whatever she receives. I keep telling him, he’s not priveleged. But what does he care of that? He still benefits.

Once, he picked up his son 3.5hours late from school. Nobody knows what he does other than play soccer day in and out until late at night. It doesn’t bring any income. It doesn’t benefit his family. She is left to sort out the kids by herself in the end.

This, was more of a lesson he needs to learn. Don’t expect people to help. And don’t ride on people’s generousity. The people around him are not cruel enough to see his family suffer. 

He told my husband that even the car towers aren’t as cruel. They would give notice in advance. Pffft. We did. We gave him a lay off period of 3 weeks before this finally happened. And then he said yesterday, he thought we decided not to take back the car.

I’m just… sad. Just as DH. He said their youngest wasn’t well when he took it this evening. In fact the child just vomited in the car with both husband and wife cleaning up the residue. How he felt seeing all of the children and wife just sitting at their porch seeing him drive their lifeline away. 

I know he is sad. BIL4 was the closest brother to him growing up. I didn’t need to see his eyes welling up while telling me all what happened to understand how he still feel right now. I understand. I want the best for them too. That’s why this brother needs a lesson.

He needs to understand and learn how to value those who care. We’re not bad people. We only want the best outcome for them. Just because we sincerely care.

This sunken feeling.