So today, Monday, 8th June 2009, has been such a craptastic day for me.
I missed the 630am class. Fine.
For breakfast I ate a piece of onde-onde [a type of Malaysian desert], only to be told by my mum “OH MEI, it’s gone bad!”. Fine, this means skipping 930am class lest I have to run out of the room clutching my mouth and or ass. You DO NOT mess around with grated coconut that has gone off. Neither do you mess around with the Digestion Gods.
Waited at home for the vet to come pick Leo up. My vet’s the best, he knows that I can’t possibly carry a 25kg dog to the car and drive to a desolate area to get my dog x-rayed, so he came to pick Leo up for the x-ray.
Went to have a nap. I haven’t been sleeping very well these past few days. Been sleeping in chunks of 3 hours, waking up, going to bed for another 2, before the neighbourhood line dancing group plays their latest dance hits at 8am [today it was at 754am, balls!]. By this time I haven’t had the runs yet, regretted a little about skipping 930am class.
Vet came back with Leo. Diagnosis : not a hip problem but a spine problem. Seems like he has the canine version of scoliosis and has nerve compression. It could progressively get worse within a week, so it’s no more violent playdates with Rusty lest it aggravates the symptoms. When Leo came back from the vet, Bella was mad worried as he was walking around like I fed him half a bottle of tequila, so she made her concern known by pawing the glass door and meowing, much to Rusty’s displeasure. Rusty HATES cats.
Dad took me to the bank to settle some stuff. Delivered a lecture. Nodded and meditated through it. Bank couldn’t read the microchip on my ID card fuck you OCBC! , which mei MAY mean I have to go to the National Registry Department to get it fixed. Fucker-di-doo.
Went to 615 class. Cried. Lasted 2 sets of sasangasana. Would’ve cried more, but I didn’t want to skip any postures. Cried again in the showers. Would cry again now [12am] if I had the energy. Fuck it.
Dinner with dad. I get the feeling the parental units don’t understand the concept of “text messaging” as I have to be their personal message relay-person. So next week I am going to dress as a pageboy and do a little jig when I have to pass messages.
Went to the pharmacy to buy some agnesia [medicated talc powder] for my rashes. Pharmacist NEARLY refuses to sell it to me on the basis that I MAY have dengue fever.
M* : Do you think I can use agnesia for rashes?
Pharmacist : Oh, how long have you had the rashes?
M* : 2 weeks.
Pharmacist : Does it hurt?
M* : what the FUCK sort of question is this? OF COURSE IT FUCKING HURTS WHEN I SCRATCH IT, THAT’S CAUSE I SCRATCHED MYSELF RAW YOU DUMBFUCK. Er, yeah.
Pharmacist : Oh, you may want to visit a doctor…
M* : I haven’t been travelling, so it’s not the swine flu.
Pharmacist : It could be something else …
M* : It’s not dengue fever either. I don’t have joint aches, muscle pain, a fever …
Pharmacist : But the symptoms may appear later.
M* : … Just. Give. Me. The. Agnesia. Thanks.
On a side note, IT’S THE DRY SEASON. There’s no stagnant water in my compound, so what the hell is the pharmacist talking about DENGUE FEVER?
Screw The Hills or those ‘reality’ based shows. My daily life [even when I’m unemployed] is certainly far more interesting than getting a pedicure whilst engaging in a bitch fight with a former best friend.