My Tea’s Gone Cold
According to the lunar calendar, tomorrow will be the last day of the year of the ox. Following that will be the commencement of certain anticipated yearly rituals. Somehow, I haven’t allowed myself to sink into the festive season despite the excessive strains of familiar new year tunes gnawing at my ears in every shopping mall I’ve been to. Occasionally, I find myself whistling to the said tunes in the exact pitch but the looming new year and all its excitement has yet to fully swallow me whole. It was the same with Christmas last year, and the year before. Could it be that I am growing jaded?
Tomorrow also marks the temporary cessation of what was close to two weeks of perpetual paddling. We get a recess day (Sunday) and we’ll be back in the boat again on Monday. And the roulette wheels go round and round. Never actually gave my future few months much thought when I signed myself up for this grueling way of life, but I’m not complaining. On the contrary, I suspect I quite delight in getting up at godforsaken hours of the morning and kick-starting my day with an hour of paddling in the dark, although it has messed up my sleeping patterns a fair bit. (I laid in bed for six hours last night, half of which was spent solving Soduku puzzles on my phone because I noticed my head was still bustling with much brain activity even at 1 a.m..)
Ah, woe is me.
