Tag Archives: Chaos

Thank you mom and dad

Just wanted to take some time out of my already scarce amount of sleep to state firmly and boldly:

Thank you to all those parents who are now grandparents helping with the care of their grandkids – even for a while.

I know you will only do what you think is best for my baby because you love them as much as you love me. If not more. (Who am I kidding, definitely more.)
You have given me some time for myself, to think, to compose my emotions, to rest, to pretend I am a kid again and go on crazy theme park rides.
You have given us shared experiences we can all reminisce about. You now also know what is "behind the scenes" when taking care of "this cutie".
You have given me an idea of what you were like when I was little, the time I can't remember anything of. I now understand a little more of what you had to go through and how different you must have been when we were young.
You have provided us some distance so I have the luxury of perspective to renew, persevere and be better.

So thank you! Thank you for your unconditional love, your generosity and the deep well of energy you draw from (Grandmas more than Granddads specifically here). I know how hard it is and I appreciate how much more demanding it must be on you physically.

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Multitasking Madness

I’ve got 29 tabs open in my browser and every 2 minutes something else pops into mind and my mouse heads towards the “+” icon to ‘Open a New Tab’!! What is wrong with me?!

  • I want to blog about some story ideas I had
  • I have some job applications to submit
  • Need to do some research on companies for a kick-ass job application
  • Thinking about (and googling) recipe ideas for the leftover kiwi in my pantry
  • Feeling a little frustrated and want to blog about the fuzz that’s growing in my mind and a growing hunger in my belly as it draws closer to dinner time…

Stop!

I took a breath and opened WordPress, but got distracted by reading the posts from some of my favorite bloggers.
Wait, what was I trying to do?
Closed WordPress.
As I berate myself mentally, I realize the pantry is just a few steps away.
Mmm a cookie would taste so good right now.

I should grab one.
But it’s too close to dinner. Or is it?
Images of the Tim Tams I bought tempted me further into the sweet, sweet embrace of my pantry and all its treasures.
A mental battle ensues.
One that logic wins.
Defeated, I grab the thing nearest to me.
My cup – and took a sip of water.
It tasted nothing like the sweet sensation of chocolate.

Searching for a distraction, I looked back at my screen and clicked on a random tab.
It was a job opening I was interested in.
Re-read it.
It was a website I had never seen before, asking for my resume and contact details.
I wondered if they were legit.
Opened a new tab to research on the jobbing website.

It was taking some time to load.

Re-opened WordPress.
Clicked on “New Post”.
Maybe I could try to get a post in while it was loading.
I had some ideas on what to blog, hmmm….
My stomach growls.

I’m hungry, it’s dinner time.
Or close to it.
Everything else will have to wait.

Just for a little while.

My Tim Tam Stash

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Chased

The wind felt cool against my warm skin, whipping my hair back while some of it got trapped and formed bubbles of air in the folds of my clothes. It made me feel a little ridiculous, just for a second, before my attention returned to the situation at hand.

I could barely hear anything above the rush of the wind in my ears but I didn’t slow down. I didn’t dare to. A brief glance at my side mirrors showed only empty streets sparsely sprinkled with pedestrians. Maybe I lost them?

Better be safe than sorry. Every time a similar scene played out on screen, I’d always scream and tell the characters to keep running. I should do the same.

Better be safe than sorry.

I sped up along the straight road before turning up a familiar corner. I got off the Panthon – the latest motorcycle combined with hovercraft technology and took the keys. Even though it wasn’t technically mine, I felt I had the responsibility to return it to the odd Parking attendant who passed me the keys to my escape vehicle in the first place. Which in turn raises a host of questions, who was this Parking Attendant and why was he helping me?

The world was a different place now, 10 years ago the Panthon belonged only in science fiction movies, 8 years ago a prototype was piloted in the secret labs of the government by their undercover personnel that took it on who-knows-what missions. The only reason I knew that was ironically also the reason I was being chased.

Until 2 years ago I lived in blissful oblivion, like most of us, and never imagined meeting anyone from these hidden sectors, then Larson came along. We met in an online chat room and were engaged 6 months later. At that time he was working with Professor Denier from Darkin University in South Asia on machinery recycling technology.

Within 10 months I realized how much of science fiction was actually real and left my boring desk job to join Larson in Professor Denier’s workshop running logistics. 4 months after that, the first prototype of Liz was created.

For decades we had been focusing on recycling plastic and paper, but as computers and machines became commonplace in both the household and workplace with new products released every few months, we needed a breakthrough technology to deal with the subsequent refuse generated. Liz was the solution Denier thought of, a black box that could take apart machine parts and reconstruct them into items that used similar materials, just the right mix of simplicity and mystery.

Last 6 months, we received several visits from people who claimed they were from a similar corporation known as Nue and wanted to discuss an acquisition. Denier refused.

I felt like I was living a science fiction movie, except, this was definitely not fiction.

Heck, 2 months ago, I never would have imagined being at the receiving end of a chase.

I walked into the obscure embrace of a smoky pub with the odd feeling that I’d been here before. Beneath the frown creasing my brow, the adventure seeker in me smiled a little.

Right now, a cold beer would be perfect.

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(I think) I’m Trying

It’s not that I’m not trying
I’m trying to understand what I did
What I said that was wrong

I check our chat logs
I check my memory
They are flawed

But I still don’t see it
Maybe in the same way
You don’t see what you did wrong

You put me in a box
You labelled me
With things other people said
With things I told you in confidence
With things that happened just once
You don’t see me for who I am
It hurts
Because I thought you did

My feeble mind
Is filled with
How quick you are to anger
How quickly you jump to conclusions
How you judge me all the time
I guess I don’t know you too
I’m sorry
I thought I did

I’m not playing games
I just can’t get my mind
Around everything

We live in a world
Framed
By our own narratives
Subjected
To our own analysis
Influenced
By our fluctuating emotions
Limited
By the way we communicate
Filled
With the feelings that may be
Too difficult to grasp

I don’t understand
How can things be worked out
When we can never fully understand
What someone else is feeling
No matter how hard we try

But I’m trying

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Mystery of the Missing Vegetable

It was a cool autumn day…
Well, as far as cool and autumn can be in a tropical country where the only seasons are hot, hot and hotter…

We headed to the neighborhood supermarket as our food supplies were running low. Which actually happens on an almost daily basis in our family of 6. There’s always something missing or someone hungry for something.

As it usually unfolds, our short grocery trips evolved into some kind of time-sucking monster while we sat down for a snack, deliberated over the ‘best buy’, ogled at snacks, compared brands and before we knew it, the sky was colored a deep nightly hue by the time we decided to head home.

With a familiar burn in our pocket, we got home and started to sort the items we needed for dinner that night and found ourselves short one of our purchases – a packet of leafy vegetable. With all of us in the kitchen, there was a barrage of questions aimed at no-one in particular and yet everyone all at once. It was a state of chaos. Questions like:

  1. Is it in the pantry?
  2. Perhaps the fridge?
  3. Did someone misplace it?
  4. Where was the last place you saw it?
  5. Perhaps it’s still in one of the bags?
  6. Did someone throw it away by accident?
  7. Are you sure we even bought it?

And a slew of reactions were triggered.

  • The fridge was ransacked again and again, by various people
  • The pantry light was turned on and off in case we missed something the first time
  • The empty bags were smashed together in an attempt to feel for a bulky packet left forgotten
  • Memories were ransacked as to who saw it last and where
  • Dad stuck his hand into the bin in case it was thrown away *eww* – unfortunately for him, this was before he got the inspiration to check for evidence of the purchase – i.e. the receipt!

So question 7 was answered. We did purchase it.

Knowing that it had to be somewhere along the way home from the grocers, we retraced our steps and finally found it… lying surreptitiously in the dark crannies of the car’s backseat. If only it knew the lengths we went to search for it!

Reflecting on it, I’m pretty sure we could have gotten from the problem (missing vegetable) to the solution (the car) much earlier. But with so many people fretting about the same thing, I think this was a hilarious interpretation of the familiar adage “too many cooks spoil the broth”.

Although, it did make dinner taste especially yummy that night…

Got you now Mr. Vegetable!

Courtesy of Otama2

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