Annoyed Little Self

Is stress and annoyance underrated?

Yes, it can be.




Awkward is Ironic

My body is prone to growing things in unknown places, without being asked to. So I really need to squeeze time for waxing because it’s kinda of like taboo for me… Or even for other people to hear me say them here. Because they are somewhat prudent and I’m just being, “I can’t live my life with these hair growth here, here and here,” while they slap the air with a, “Oh-my-gosh, I-can’t-believe-you-showed-places-to-strangers!



So, I had to on standby at 1:30pm. And I rushed sped like crazy getting to waxing place. I thought I would get the normal Michelle or her friend when I made the appointment. Usually I would check if they are available, but I didn’t, this time around. What I got was some retired Aunty eager enough to see my prudent fishes. No wonder I got into a different degree of nervous before I even got there. But I survived this Aunty and so I treated myself Japanese.

I ordered the Salmon Sashimi Rice Set. Funnily enough, it just went through and I couldn’t taste a thing. Because my head was drowning in chaos – just absolutely chaotic conversations – when everything else there around me had light jazz lounge music and calmness of a mountain top.

Truthfully, I had NEVER observed myself that way. It had this clinking of wine glasses going, monotone and party conversation excitements in them that I really can’t remember what was said. So… is the word ironic appropriate?

You see now… I’ve been tired. Lately. Like, really tired. And at 4:00pm today, I felt drained when I knew I should have sufficient rest from the multi power naps like The Sims throughout the weekends.

It is only now that I realize that I may have overworked my brain. And there is obvious signs that I will stay up until midnight – as usual.


Okay, bye!

The Script

I love listening to this one song. About a man who was so drunk and down, so hurt and broken, too compelled and trying; but the best got out of him. It moves me. The hurt and the brokenness. Gives me the need to pick this drunken guy up and let him cry everything out with a coffee on a bench beneath a tree in the park.

After a few years in, I got to know that the song was by The Script. Then I learnt that the band hails from Ireland, and I couldn’t assimilate on talent as I only have The Corrs in mind when it’s Irish – or Boyzone, or Westlife and other boybands. The Script is just… So unlike any of them and they ‘re just simply awesome. But I am not IT savvy. So I only hear what the radio plays.

Only today I found out the name of the song: The Man Who Can’t Be Moved.

And I just still love it.

It helps to bring out my compassion just when I feel I’ve run out of it for all other mental retardness. LOL.

Oh well.

And now getting the lyrics in, apparently it wasn’t about anyone getting drunk! LOL. Well…

“The Man Who Can’t Be Moved”

Going back to the corner where I first saw you
Gonna camp in my sleeping bag I’m not gonna move
Got some words on cardboard, got your picture in my hand
Saying, “If you see this girl can you tell her where I am?”

Some try to hand me money, they don’t understand
I’m not broke – I’m just a broken-hearted man
I know it makes no sense but what else can I do?
How can I move on when I’m still in love with you?

‘Cause if one day you wake up and find that you’re missing me
And your heart starts to wonder where on this earth I could be
Thinking maybe you’ll come back here to the place that we’d meet
And you’ll see me waiting for you on the corner of the street

So I’m not moving, I’m not moving

Policeman says, “Son, you can’t stay here.”
I said, “There’s someone I’m waiting for if it’s a day, a month, a year.
Gotta stand my ground even if it rains or snows.
If she changes her mind this is the first place she will go.”

‘Cause if one day you wake up and find that you’re missing me
And your heart starts to wonder where on this earth I could be
Thinking maybe you’ll come back here to the place that we’d meet
And you’ll see me waiting for you on the corner of the street

So I’m not moving, I’m not moving,
I’m not moving, I’m not moving

People talk about the guy that’s waiting on a girl, oh ohh
There are no holes in his shoes but a big hole in his world, hmm

And maybe I’ll get famous as the man who can’t be moved
Maybe you won’t mean to but you’ll see me on the news
And you’ll come running to the corner
‘Cause you’ll know it’s just for you
I’m the man who can’t be moved
I’m the man who can’t be moved

‘Cause if one day you wake up and find that you’re missing me
And your heart starts to wonder where on this earth I could be
Thinking maybe you’ll come back here to the place that we’d meet
And you’ll see me waiting for you on the corner of the street

‘Cause if one day you wake up and find that you’re missing me
(So I’m not moving)
And your heart starts to wonder where on this earth I could be
(I’m not moving)
Thinking maybe you’ll come back here to the place that we’d meet
(I’m not moving)
And you’ll see me waiting for you on the corner of the street
(I’m not moving)

Going back to the corner where I first saw you
Gonna camp in my sleeping bag, I’m not gonna move

Certificate of Stable

I had an ultimate almost breakdown over the weekend. It made me cry. It made me text a MadScorpionn to emote silent overdosed bubbles of frustration. This stress has driven me to have headaches and having the need sleep for hours, daily. Like setting the clock for 30 minutes becomes end of the business day or gone way past that. I don’t know what or how. I just needed sleep all the time. The behaviour is way past all the stable gridlines but I was just swept in the wind storm. Harnessed in the middle of somewhere.

She listened, only had to ask a few but questions that are able to draw me out. That day, she carried me home. Like always, she managed to make me feel grounded again.

Times with her is so rare but constantly timely that we see each other when I need to really relieve my strains and she just takes them away completely. The gift given by God for Scorpions. They prod, they can instigate so silently if they want to, but they also drain negativity from a situation and just shower them away. This I know of as she has done many deeds with me throughout the post, present and past of the divorce. Just the same that my daughter takes my immediate stresses away. Only when the energy is too much that they will fall sick. The testimony of life of a Scorpio.

We had a nightcap that lasted until the wee morning. He called looking for me while I crapping downstairs questioning if I had any idea what time it was – yessss… It was 2.30am and I was feeling satisfied (errr while crapping). I couldn’t care less what he would want to say about it because I SOOOO DESERVE this time out, this talk, this compassion, this humanity, this understanding and acknowledgement to be right again.

These blessings God gives that some do not know how to appreciate. Maybe they were never aware of it. Really, these are REAL BLESSINGS as they are things that money can’t fix or buy. And you seriously can’t create/force to having one either.

And although it has been over 24 hours since everything happened, I’m still trying to thaw out sleepiness. He had a good laugh with my little mini Scorpion when I attempted getting down the pickup GROGGILY, getting myself off balance and squinting to focus the direction where to head to get to the bank. Oh my God – it was pure flighty struggle…

“You must be really sleepy, aren’t you? You’re struggling like an old woman right now,” while he erupts into continuous laughter with our daughter. Sheepish face on mine. Now, this is okay for funny.

Earlier that day I sent him a picture of a receipt that has been paid partially, just for our easier reference, just in case it’ll get misplaced.  But me messaging him the receipt had him telling me he acknowledges and has transferred the remaining amount to be paid to me.

“Why transfer the money when you can bring it in cash to the shop?” 

Very him giving me options how to settle it. Okay, moi myself and I… In one way or another, he asked me to settle it myself (when this will really need us both to close, is not). An obvious tried ‘ATTEMPTED hand-washing’.

“If it doesn’t turn out the way you want it to be, I will not be doing the arguing with the tailor on your behalf – so no, I will not be doing anything about it at all.” 

(I really don’t have the imagination of completed product when it comes to clothes you know… And he knows it – and also knows what he wants <— Can you sense MY frustration? Yes.)

“OMG you know my game LOL” <— pffffttt!!!

My additional response: Too much work. Will be home late.

The Result? He waited for me from work and drove me to the bank to withdraw the money he transferred earlier and then settled with the tailor after. He told them what he liked, what he didn’t like, and how it can all be improved yada yada yada… Oh, you (my dear spouse) really could close it yourself right? Even if I’m not there…  Hmmm… Right… Zzzzzz.

So okay, mind balance. Desk clear and working in tidiness – striding one task at a time. Counting my blessings. And a little something I found which can be true – MOST OF THE TIME!!!


The Thickness of Feel – Being INFJ

I get disappointed most of the time. This feeling frustrates me and I get angry. Angry-Sad. Passive-Aggressive. Feel down. Feel harnessed in mid-air. Prone to early morning cursing. Or late night denying self of sleep until sleep adjusts itself onto me. Then the headaches, the physical lack of rest falls into place. Still, unable to cry because logic tells me that I have not enough need to cry.

Sounds like a worldly complication. But this is me. I am complicated. My sarcasm is acidic. Mouth goes rampant on precision of loathings. Slamming doors. Dreams of travel. Desire to move but yet static. Movement idyllic to home, work and everything that defines a schedule. The need to rejuvenate. But even that sometimes needs to be justified until everything is out of proportion and someone else needs to save me or until I get sick. Sick and internally depressed. Unable to find a push to even smile. Just because I am unable to smile for myself, or anybody else.

But I am blessed. For the moments that I feel okay but truthfully really, my heart is seeping hurt in numbness. That is when I’m given opportunity to talk, be with friends who are at the time, emotionally okay to help suck the energy that is beyond my own comprehension. How. Sometimes I wonder. How do I sustain my own personal injuries and be expected to solve other people’s problems?

Mrs Cusp wants to champion something within her family but she is being dramatic about it, claiming that the family is being shamed of some skeleton in the closet. But the skeleton is her mother. And her mother has done nothing but good in this world. The skeleton that is made out of all the roses and peonies, hydrangeas and daisies with butterflies.


I’m just tired of Mrs Cusp’s many futile attempts to revamp her own emptiness in self identity by encroaching other people’s things. Stop it already. Stop trying to make yourself feel that you are better than anyone else. It is not anything but annoying. One of the reasons why I cannot have meals with you.

She has attempted to be out with me, to have time with me. But my time is precious. I cannot invest them in allowing you to use them on the pretext to catch up with me when you really want to talk about yourself, or someone else’s problems and how it is making you feel when the opinion is not really yours to own in the first place which you will try to define for a long duration of time.

After all the years with Mrs Cusp, I am now asking randomly to anyone out there, why she has to be that shallow to skeletal her own mother for her own satisfaction?

I don’t know why. But I am offended. But the only way to get through this is to ignore her. But it is tiring. Even when I discard as much connection as I could with her. I just don’t need her energy to infuriate me for no reason. And I don’t need receiving her calls. As much as having her to dampen my spirits or questioning how I lead my life with my spouse and family, by trying to pry about through my circle of friends, social network, other family members and through the kids.

Enough is enough.

And this is the skeletal in my closet.

It is sad that Mrs Cusp still doesn’t know who I am, what to value and where/how boundaries/respect lie. I can’t do with exhaustion anymore. If you want to champion it, just do it yourself. Don’t expect or follow up/through so that everyone else will jump into the bandwagon and do it for you while you wash your hands off behind. Pure malice. I no longer can do with that.

And this weight has been lifted off my heart.


I Need Sleep

I’m really feeling this internal exhaustion for anger and frustration that I have no idea where it began/rooted from. All I know is that I feel like crying, but not; feeling frustrated, but (…). Feel like yelling to someone and break them down for no reason at all, but it is unfair. So I wish for sleep. Just sleep. And I need to travel. I really need a different perspective out of this or I’d do much damage to myself by shopping or spending on myself when it isn’t necessary.

So I got some time out just now to purchase some thing for the place I work for (this is an exceptionally long sentence in saying – buying office stuffs) – heavenly speed shopping. Then I got myself some sushi. One dish had an outer layer of tofu where the inside was stuffed with rice and “salad” to top it with mayo (I think so) and they were burnt all over. Because they burnt it all over with flame on the outside, it was unrecognizable or identifiable to be precise. I asked one of the elderly lady who was shuffling all the dishes around to make them presentable, “Aunty, is this tofu skin on the outside?” She looked at them closely and prodded the packaging with the finger, “This – salad sushi, fish sushi, salad sushi, ” and left me in an amusement because she just read off the label. Well okay, aunty, your explanation is good enough for me to bring it back with me. I don’t feel shallow with this logic (LOL).

My brain is presentable right now. I got to wind them down when I looked for things. And this endless brainwave looking at the coffee press that I remember to bring to work today. It is working for me. There is a cup of hand pressed coffee looking back at me with much love and affection.

But really, I am also sad. I’m frustrated. Just not yet ticking. When it starts ticking, it will be a time bomb.

I just need sleep.