All in a day’s work

2 AM : Set alarms for 7:35AM, 7:40AM, 7:45AM,7:50AM, 7:55AM and also set reminders in phone diary for 8AM and 8:15AM.

8:20AM: Wake up.

8:35AM: Search for a cab which will accept Nets payment(the alternative being accepting 4 dollars 60 cents in 20 cent coins)

8:45AM: Find the cab.

9:10AM: Enter office in a rush, pretending to have climbed up all 34 floors in a bid to reach on time.

9:12AM: Realise that no one actually cares.

9:16AM: Turn on office computer. Open mail box.

9:17AM: Receive mail from HR department extolling the virtues of a Pear, the choice fruit of the week.

9:19AM: Search for last week’s Fruit of the day mail and perform Change Management analysis. Figure out how a Pear is more efficient than a Lychee.

9:22AM: Keep hitting refresh button on mail box in hope of receiving a new mail.

9:35AM: Give up.

9:45AM: Walk over to pantry, make self a nice cup of Lipton Yellow label tea, with 2 tea-spoons of sugar and some amount of 60%fat free milk, along with hot water.

9:55AM: Walk back over to desk.

10AM: Drink tea. Appreciate how everyone seems to be so eager to work on this fine morning.

10:20AM: Message every person in a 600m radius asking if they are free for lunch. Every person with a double digit IQ. Which usually left out most of my comrades from NUS.

10:45AM: Keep spamming till one of them replies.

10:50AM: Start thinking about a second cup of tea. Decide on Milo instead.

11:00AM: Walk over to pantry and make self a cup of hot Milo.

11:10AM: Drink Milo, once again appreciating the dedication and commitment flowing through the surroundings.

11:30AM: Wonder if Watch has stopped. Attempt to synchronise Watch with the clock on the computer.

11:40AM: Attempts fail, as Watch apparently has not stopped and needs no synchronization. Watch doesn’t realise that that wasn’t quite the point.

12:00PM: Be the first one out of the door, beat the crowd to the food court and lunch in peace.

1:00PM: Having finished milking every minute of the hour, slowly make way back to desk.

1:05PM: Realise that another mail has been received. Again from the HR department, but this time explaining the benefits of the Employee Shareholder Program. A big N.A.

1:15PM: Analyse mailbox and realise that 60% of the mails received are from HR. The rest being from the IT Support team informing everyone which system wasn’t functioning that day.

1:30PM: Congratulate self on getting through half the work-day. Decide to drink a celebratory cup of Cappuccino.

1:45PM: Go through the rituals. Enjoy the taste of instant coffee while a few billion dollars changes hands in the background.

2:00PM: Start pondering about meaning of life.

: Try to come up with name for third kid.

5:00PM: Complete pondering. The meaning, found, seems to be 42. Or 6×9, for the daft.

5:30PM: Last half hour.

5:45PM: Observe with some curiosity as a couple Corporate Services amble over to a nearby desk. Congratulate self on identifying the breed so accurately. Steve Irwin would be proud.

5:46PM: Curiosity fast vanishing, watch with no little trepidation as the topic at aforementioned desk turns towards “some Sheep Song”.

5:47PM: Wonder, “Baa baa black sheep”?

5:48PM: Shut ears tight and begin praying in a vain attempt to save self as notes of “This is the song that never ends. Why dont you wait for it to begin..” or some such thing is heard.

5:52PM: Thank lucky stars as Janitor shoos away the flock. Admire his quick thinking and intelligence. Sing his praises for a while.

5:58PM: Log out of computer. Get ready to make a dash for it.

6:00PM: To quote Mel Gibson, FREEEEDOOOOOOOM

A game plan?

As the keen-minded among you might have realised, it takes something drastic these days to get me blogging. And “A Game Plan” was exactly that. It was a truly horrible movie, with terrible acting and a conspicuous lack of a meaningful storyline. For one, I didnt know if the movie was about American Football or Ballet. Maybe it was about American Foolet. Or BalBall. Or maybe it was about Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson’s complete lack of acting skills. Whatever it was about, the only thing worse than the movie was Dwayne Johnson trying to do the ballet. The only thing worse than THAT was Dwayne Johnson trying to play American Football. Which was probably why the “football”ing scenes were cut mercifully short to “The Rock” scoring the winning touchdown in all the games he played, except ofcourse the Championship game in which he selflessly passes the ball thingy to some other dude who scores with a zillionth of a second remaining. I wont accuse Dwayne Johnson of trying too hard in this film. In fact, it didn’t look like he was trying to act at all. There could be no other explanation.

On a different note, I went to the barber’s today. When my barber saw my hair, he first accused me of trying to cut my own hair, and then threatened me with crew cuts and oil treatments. He seemed to take my hair as a personal insult. I did manage to escape eventually, but not before he felled most of my curly locks with a pair of unforgiving and apparently very starved scissors. I was bruised but thankfully still in one piece.

It is a dangerous world we live in.

To Varsha, and her dead blog

Quite a few people(two at last count well, half my readership) have asked me why Im letting my blog rot. As I type this I realised that the word “blog” doesnt exist in Mozilla’s dictionary. As doesn’t “realised”. Its a funny language, Americanish.

So getting back to why I havent been posting, well the reasons are many. With a hectic, i.e., non-existent life to and staying up till 6:45 AM to watch El’pool lose to Besiktas, my blog changed from an adorable girlfriend to a pesky little sister you just couldn’t get rid off. If your little sister is adorable too, you need to get rid of those rose coloured glasses. “coloured”. Americanish. Sigh.

Speaking of “Sigh”, our resident english expert came up with a new pronunciation for it. “Sig”, apparently. But thats a long, irrelevant, and possibly unamusing story to which most of the two of you wont be able to relate to.

Getting to more important matters, Arsenal is pwning n00bs and wannabes, in the PL and abroad. They proved everyone from the pundit brigade at ESPN to the FIFA08 game designers at EA wrong(85 for Bent? 71 for Walcott?? 78 for Clichy????). They actually thought we’d be fighting with Top4Tottenham for 4th place. Die bitches. And meanwhile, Rafa wants another 40million pounds to buy more players. He has no brains. Arsenal are going to go all the way, and I’m loving it!

Getting back to the title, this post is dedicated to Varsha, and her blog which she cowardly deleted. Be a man varsha, do the right thing!

la política de este blog

(“the policy of this blog” for the linguistically challenged)

This blog shall henceforth follow the following policy. I call it “The one point procedure”. I know, it is the hand-tennis style followed by a certain poor Sou(l) but hey I am sure she has no copyright to the name(WE came up with the name in the first place).

Incidentally, she has started hitting the ball back now.

She even got ninju out once !

Well ok back to the policy

koff koff

This blog will have no policy. The blogger will blog on any subject he feels is blog-worthy. But, on some very rare occassions, he may decide to moderate a bit when talking about his fellow beings.

Well so that is my policy. I hmph at anyone who has anything else to say on this.

Oh I forgot to add, it is entirely up to me to decide who I classify under “fellow beings”. (They will be humans for any smart ass who might think otherwise).

PS: Classifications are subject to moodswings.

Who is guilty ?

Something I read somewhere :

Wife is dreaming in the middle of the night and suddenly shouts: “Up!! Quick! My husband is back.”

Man gets up, jumps out of the window, hurts his back, and then realizes:

“Damn, I’m the husband!”‘

Who is guilty in this situation ?

I would like to hear your thoughts