Bothering to write.

Out of a certain wish and a longing to be able to write a bit more and take pride in my writing, I splurged on a pen today. Roller ball, to be precise.

But I still find my fingers tardy, as though they choose not to bother too much. My journal pages lie open and empty, longing for words, scribbles, anything, really. They are not picky as they know they have not been cared for properly for too long.

But they cannot do anything as I choose not to open their pages and scratch out a tune.

Hopefully, there’s something in that pen that will get me writing. Of course, that is really wishful thinking. I mean, how can an inanimate object drive and motivate me to do more than just typing, where I do not want to think and want to tap aimlessly, brainlessly, meshing polymer keys against their plastic counterparts underneath as I type random thoughts into this computer?

Oh well. Nothing much can be done from that perspective, I’m afraid.

Nothing much at all.

***

Its 11.40p.m. at present and the Girlfriend lies curled up in bed, occasionally tapping on her phone as she reads in silence. The stillness is punctuated by her intermittent coughing, a bug/virus that she has picked up from somewhere and which is being treated with antibiotics and my “cruel and uncaring” methods of massaging sore pressure points and lymph node locations. I feel bad for her. The usual bubbly self has been frightened into a sore, achy, coughing mess hibernating underneath the duvet covers.

Is it bad if I’m wishing that somehow, she’d pass me enough of the virus that I’d fall sick and then get to miss out on work tomorrow? Is that bad? Really?

I made myself proud by buying my first piece of furniture and assembling it without it falling apart. A bit like my bike that I built for myself in 2009. And it held PERFECTLY.

Went to B4 @ Ion Orchard where they’d finish some renovations to their food court and we came across a restaurant aptly named, “Monster Curry,” for their magnificently huge dishes of curry with different fried meats and a casually tossed salad on the side. Please compare size of dish with my hand.


And I thought that hers was big until my plate came along. It looked “small” but remember, this plate takes up about 1/3 of the table that the plate resided on. I nearly gave up eating and I called uncle with only two more bites of meat left untouched because the Girlfriend was giving me the evil eye for trying to stuff myself like a Thanksgiving turkey.

Guess the inspiration is back, after all, huh? Or maybe it’s just because it’s nearing the end of the year and I always get a bit contemplative during the festive season.

Tootles.

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