Grumping
Sorry, this is not going to be a happy post. I'm not happy at the moment and I just don't see why I should pander to your optimism--and anyway it's my blog and my viewpoint and I don't care if there are a couple hundred million starving people in Africa who would give an arm and a leg to be in my place, I'm determined to be grumpy today. So there.
I suppose I do have an obligation to tell you why I'm not happy before I start unloading my psychological trauma, so here goes. It all began on Sunday. Or actually Saturday. Or sometime around there. Look, I'm trying to do the best I can, OK? Stop hounding me for details. Yes, that's right. Back off, you.
Anyway. My parents have been whacking at me to (a) get into some university or other soon or (b) go back to KK and get a job. Go read my posts about the time I spent in The Mart and you'll see why (b) is definitely not open for discussion. So... I'm stuck with (a). I hate being manipulated, but what am I against my parents? One against two is, as anyone who has ever done math knows, unequal.
So on Sunday I began the job: printing out the application forms, making plans to travel and get certificates or whatever necessary, and writing out a plan of action (in chronological order). Then that night--this is my fault entirely--I watched The Producers with the Gorilla until about 1am. (It's a great show, by the way, do watch.)
Anyway... yeah, so I woke up yesterday morning (Monday) with lack of sleep and a mysterious throbbing in my right cheek whenever I clenched my teeth. And boy, I had plenty of opportunity to do that... but we'll get there when we get there. Don't you dare try to rush me. So I grabbed a bit of breakfast and went off to TAR without too much trouble: I've been there often enough for it to not cause me much worry.
The first thing to do was to collect some certificates from my sister's room: the MUET slip and my AS results. (Of course, those were rendered obsolete by the A2 results, but oh well.) I got rather stressed while hunting them, but the stress went away when I found them tucked away in some little file I'd totally forgotten the existence of. After that, I had to walk to Hibiscus Park to have them photocopied (photocopying in the college itself requires the possession of a sort of credit card which I never bought), in the process somehow forgetting to take back the MUET slip.
When I got back to the college to have my documents certified, therefore, I got another panic attack when I discovered the absence of the MUET slip, because certifying photocopies requires the presence of the original. And losing one of those, let me tell you, is not a good thing because then you have to go through all sorts of bureaucratic red tape to get another copy back. And that sort of thing, if gone through once, generally gives one a phobia of ever losing anything ever again. Fortunately the office had their own records of the MUET scores, so they certified anyway: but I went back to that shop in a hurry to hunt my slip. It was very relieving to have it back safely in my bag.
Unfortunately, after that came the worst part of the day: getting to Monash itself. You see, it's pretty much on the other side of the city from where I live, and I've never been anywhere in that general vicinity before, much less to Monash. And then I found out that nobody in my contact-in-case-of-emergency list knows anything about how to get there by public transport either. (Drivers, bah...) So I was mostly going blind. All I knew was to get to a certain station on the LRT and pray for a bus that went where I wanted to go.
So that's what I did. I took a 50-minute ride on the LRT and ended up somewhere that I've only gone once before... and even then it was for less than 10 minutes so it really doesn't count. And then I took one look at the buses... and none of them were labelled Monash. And when I asked the people around, they didn't even know that Monash existed. (By this time I was well on my way to Panic No. 3 of the day.) A few phone calls told me that Monash was near something called Sunway, so I asked about that instead: and the next people I asked immediately said bus 623 went there.
Apparently Sunway, whatever it is, is the centre of life for everyone in the area. They use it as a point of reference ("to the left of Sunway, then go north until you can't see Sunway, then turn around three times and walk 243 degrees south of Sunway"), point of relaxation (it appears that everyone of schoolgoing age goes to Sunway after school), and I have no proof of it but quite likely the old people of the region aspire to retire and live happily ever after in Sunway.
...right. So. I got off the bus at the Sunway stop (it wasn't hard to miss, three-quarters of the bus got off there and I just followed the herd instinct) and immediately began the next phase: walking to Monash, guided by people who didn't really seem to know what they were talking about. I drank 3 liters of water while walking around and was still thirsty. That should give you an idea of how much I walked. It may also be helpful to know that I got off the bus around 3pm and only got into Monash at nearly 5. It would definitely help you to know that I am extremely sedentary: all sports, in my opinion, are spectator sports. So walking for that 2 hours in the sun, asking people for directions, was exhausting.
And then I had to do it all in reverse to get back to the Gorillas' place. So my feet ache terribly. And my joints are still sore. And don't forget I had a throbbing jaw all through it, and I was terribly thirsty, not to mention energy-depleted. And so I slept around 10--surprisingly early.
And then I woke up this morning around 9.30 to the lovely voice of my mom, yelling at me (I don't know why she does that--maybe a reaction to me, since I always speak very softly to the phone...?) to update her on all the stuff that went on yesterday. And that simply was a precursor to half an hour of my mom demanding that I do everything within my means to get into the February intake before Friday while I muttered about being sore all over and wanting to sleep.
[Later]
It's just rained and for some reason my mood has gotten loads better. But I still don't like the way my mom thinks of my future... I know her prime objective for me is to get into school (specifically NUS), but really. Her idea is for me to get into Monash ASAP just to spend my time "wisely" while waiting for acceptance into NUS!
I don't know about you, but I wouldn't mind a little security now and then. If I were to actually do that, it's certain I wouldn't take it very seriously. Quite likely nobody would dare make friends with me, because quite likely I would tell everybody that I might be moving out sometime soon. And naturally the office wouldn't be happy... and what if NUS rejects me? I'll have spent half a year telling everybody that I'm waiting for something "better". And by then all the cliques will have formed and I won't have a chance in the social world. Not that I particularly want to be in it, but I don't know anywhere else to find friends.
And here goes my mom, pressuring me to open up and take even more chances, while my instinct is to find someplace I can be more secure in. I don't want to tell people that my plans are to kill time studying in Monash while waiting for offers from somewhere else, I want to just say I'm studying in Monash! Or UTAR, or whatever. It really doesn't matter to me at the moment where, my worries are more about what I'm going to study... but oh well, I suppose when your parents aren't in arm's reach, you gotta worry about everything yourself. If this works out, it'll be nothing short of a miracle.
So now I have to worry about choosing the right courses--my strong Math has led my dad to now put pressure on me to consider Mechatronics, so I'm putting that down as my 2nd choice--and to do it in the right place...seriously, though, I don't care what or where I do it as long as it gives me a way to be useful. To the world and to God. I refuse to be a parasite.
...well, maybe on occasion, but not in the long run.
I suppose I do have an obligation to tell you why I'm not happy before I start unloading my psychological trauma, so here goes. It all began on Sunday. Or actually Saturday. Or sometime around there. Look, I'm trying to do the best I can, OK? Stop hounding me for details. Yes, that's right. Back off, you.
Anyway. My parents have been whacking at me to (a) get into some university or other soon or (b) go back to KK and get a job. Go read my posts about the time I spent in The Mart and you'll see why (b) is definitely not open for discussion. So... I'm stuck with (a). I hate being manipulated, but what am I against my parents? One against two is, as anyone who has ever done math knows, unequal.
So on Sunday I began the job: printing out the application forms, making plans to travel and get certificates or whatever necessary, and writing out a plan of action (in chronological order). Then that night--this is my fault entirely--I watched The Producers with the Gorilla until about 1am. (It's a great show, by the way, do watch.)
Anyway... yeah, so I woke up yesterday morning (Monday) with lack of sleep and a mysterious throbbing in my right cheek whenever I clenched my teeth. And boy, I had plenty of opportunity to do that... but we'll get there when we get there. Don't you dare try to rush me. So I grabbed a bit of breakfast and went off to TAR without too much trouble: I've been there often enough for it to not cause me much worry.
The first thing to do was to collect some certificates from my sister's room: the MUET slip and my AS results. (Of course, those were rendered obsolete by the A2 results, but oh well.) I got rather stressed while hunting them, but the stress went away when I found them tucked away in some little file I'd totally forgotten the existence of. After that, I had to walk to Hibiscus Park to have them photocopied (photocopying in the college itself requires the possession of a sort of credit card which I never bought), in the process somehow forgetting to take back the MUET slip.
When I got back to the college to have my documents certified, therefore, I got another panic attack when I discovered the absence of the MUET slip, because certifying photocopies requires the presence of the original. And losing one of those, let me tell you, is not a good thing because then you have to go through all sorts of bureaucratic red tape to get another copy back. And that sort of thing, if gone through once, generally gives one a phobia of ever losing anything ever again. Fortunately the office had their own records of the MUET scores, so they certified anyway: but I went back to that shop in a hurry to hunt my slip. It was very relieving to have it back safely in my bag.
Unfortunately, after that came the worst part of the day: getting to Monash itself. You see, it's pretty much on the other side of the city from where I live, and I've never been anywhere in that general vicinity before, much less to Monash. And then I found out that nobody in my contact-in-case-of-emergency list knows anything about how to get there by public transport either. (Drivers, bah...) So I was mostly going blind. All I knew was to get to a certain station on the LRT and pray for a bus that went where I wanted to go.
So that's what I did. I took a 50-minute ride on the LRT and ended up somewhere that I've only gone once before... and even then it was for less than 10 minutes so it really doesn't count. And then I took one look at the buses... and none of them were labelled Monash. And when I asked the people around, they didn't even know that Monash existed. (By this time I was well on my way to Panic No. 3 of the day.) A few phone calls told me that Monash was near something called Sunway, so I asked about that instead: and the next people I asked immediately said bus 623 went there.
Apparently Sunway, whatever it is, is the centre of life for everyone in the area. They use it as a point of reference ("to the left of Sunway, then go north until you can't see Sunway, then turn around three times and walk 243 degrees south of Sunway"), point of relaxation (it appears that everyone of schoolgoing age goes to Sunway after school), and I have no proof of it but quite likely the old people of the region aspire to retire and live happily ever after in Sunway.
...right. So. I got off the bus at the Sunway stop (it wasn't hard to miss, three-quarters of the bus got off there and I just followed the herd instinct) and immediately began the next phase: walking to Monash, guided by people who didn't really seem to know what they were talking about. I drank 3 liters of water while walking around and was still thirsty. That should give you an idea of how much I walked. It may also be helpful to know that I got off the bus around 3pm and only got into Monash at nearly 5. It would definitely help you to know that I am extremely sedentary: all sports, in my opinion, are spectator sports. So walking for that 2 hours in the sun, asking people for directions, was exhausting.
And then I had to do it all in reverse to get back to the Gorillas' place. So my feet ache terribly. And my joints are still sore. And don't forget I had a throbbing jaw all through it, and I was terribly thirsty, not to mention energy-depleted. And so I slept around 10--surprisingly early.
And then I woke up this morning around 9.30 to the lovely voice of my mom, yelling at me (I don't know why she does that--maybe a reaction to me, since I always speak very softly to the phone...?) to update her on all the stuff that went on yesterday. And that simply was a precursor to half an hour of my mom demanding that I do everything within my means to get into the February intake before Friday while I muttered about being sore all over and wanting to sleep.
[Later]
It's just rained and for some reason my mood has gotten loads better. But I still don't like the way my mom thinks of my future... I know her prime objective for me is to get into school (specifically NUS), but really. Her idea is for me to get into Monash ASAP just to spend my time "wisely" while waiting for acceptance into NUS!
I don't know about you, but I wouldn't mind a little security now and then. If I were to actually do that, it's certain I wouldn't take it very seriously. Quite likely nobody would dare make friends with me, because quite likely I would tell everybody that I might be moving out sometime soon. And naturally the office wouldn't be happy... and what if NUS rejects me? I'll have spent half a year telling everybody that I'm waiting for something "better". And by then all the cliques will have formed and I won't have a chance in the social world. Not that I particularly want to be in it, but I don't know anywhere else to find friends.
And here goes my mom, pressuring me to open up and take even more chances, while my instinct is to find someplace I can be more secure in. I don't want to tell people that my plans are to kill time studying in Monash while waiting for offers from somewhere else, I want to just say I'm studying in Monash! Or UTAR, or whatever. It really doesn't matter to me at the moment where, my worries are more about what I'm going to study... but oh well, I suppose when your parents aren't in arm's reach, you gotta worry about everything yourself. If this works out, it'll be nothing short of a miracle.
So now I have to worry about choosing the right courses--my strong Math has led my dad to now put pressure on me to consider Mechatronics, so I'm putting that down as my 2nd choice--and to do it in the right place...seriously, though, I don't care what or where I do it as long as it gives me a way to be useful. To the world and to God. I refuse to be a parasite.
...well, maybe on occasion, but not in the long run.
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