Series of Unfortunate Events

Shall we all hear about my horrid day then? Yesterday was a day I wish never happened. For all the events that came together and sculpted this disaster. It was almost a page out of Lemony Snicket's "A Series of Unfortunate Events".

Initially, if all plans went well, I should have been up at 830 am. The alarm got set for 815 so I could aim for a 9 am departure since it takes an hour and a half [train and bus] to get to campus. I was quite fired up about attending school this Tuesday. 2 tutorials I had already done [and aint it such a joy to attend class when you ACTUALLY did your work and are not aiming to copy the solutions from the board]. Only in uni do I feel such a need to exhibit smartness and diligence. Nowhere else. Nowhere else, was I ever the under performing repeat student.

The alarm went off alright. But I didn't wake to it. I got up at a round 12 noon. Unfortunate Event One. Still, knowing I had missed my two tutorials I was undeterred. I still had a tuition to aim for at 6 pm. Ok, the day is not all lost on the academic front. I say tuition but I am the tutee in this case. Taking tuition for a hopeless Year 1 subject I have yet to clear [even after the 6th time]. So, I pester the mum to brew me a cuppa. I say brew, but we all know it's just a pre-mixed 3 in 1 routine coupled with hot water. I rush to the bathroom, strip and lo and behold! There is no water!

Unfortunate Event Two. Yes, the water supply apparently got disrupted. For the whole day. Till they get around to "upgrading" the existing water pipes. Dust and metal shavings flying all around and no water. My mum of course had a pre-emptive measure of filling up a couple of pails with standby water, but one look at it and I knew it could never appease my shower requirements.

Then, my mum informs me of the bane of this gusty wind effect we have been experiencing this week in Singapore. The wind literally blasts and wails through cracks in your window and huffs and puffs and blows everything that's not securely tethered down. And one thing it blew away to oblivion was a bamboo pole of laundry. Apparently, the pole cracked in half and the remains got strewn all over the carpark. Thing is, the clothes were nowhere to be found after the realization set in. Someone had filched it. Best part is the fateful pole was carrying a coupla my boxers and berms. Unfortunate Event Three.

So, the tale continues. I finally just rinse and wash up at around 3 to leave for school. Then it dawns on me, that I'm broke. Unfortunate Event Four. Yes, amazing how something like this dawns on you only when you're done ironing your tee, dusting off your jeans and lacing your previously-white Nikes. With no other choice, and also because the EZLink card is down to negative value, I had to beg a few tenners off the mum. This is something I hate to do because it will inevitably invite a massive lecture cum dissertation on why I am in this poor financial state and it will inevitably be linked to spending money on cigs and alcohol.

Amazingly, I actually felt fresh and good and happy I was on the way to school. Top up aside, no other detours and I decided to flip through the classifieds on the train. It's interesting how everyone else just wants to know which classification you are training your eyes at. Like it would aid them in their quest for eternal bliss to know that you're flipping through house rental ads. I hate fuckers who stare at what you are doing on the train. You know that feeling, the feeling of being watched. Eyes boring holes into your soul feeling. Unfortunate Event Five.

The air con was good, the seat was comfy, there was no one to the left and right. And then I get these punctuations I call phone calls. Phone calls that just jolt you awake and pause your ITunes on your phone screaming to be attended to. Of course, the appearance of significant other's name on the badly scratched LCD is a welcome respite to the drudgery of the journey. But NOT the calafare [recently realized this is in fact a Cantonese term] who insist on wanting to be the "other" line. As if it's not enough that I have to handle brainless banter or job offers, it really irks me that there are a few hotspots or rather twillight zones along the North South line where reception is zero. What this means is that for politeness sake, I have to return the call. Outgoing minutes. Tick tock tick tock. Unfortunate Event Six.

School, now that in itself is an unfortunate event in my life. The need to attend it. But it is not included in the specifics for this tale. This addition one on top of the other of unfortunate events was going to be further compounded. Cos, that's when the drinking started.

Drinking you say? In school you say? Unfortunate Event Seven. Never leave an unconsumed bottle of alcohol simmer in the locker. It will only appeal to you on a day when you shouldn't be swayed by it's charms. And that day was on me. After doing a few shots on the rocks, economy set in and I decided to just mix it all up. Popped in to tuition and came out to chit chat with the boys. 2 exactly. And then, the night turned against me. All things bad, vile and evil are stirred up with the fumes of Chivas. To the boy I accosted at the lockers regarding some past feud, my apologies. To the nice people who thought 20 McNuggets will alleviate my hunger pangs, my thanks. And to the cleaner uncle who didn't bitch about the ash and butts on the floor, my humble gratitude.

Every horrid day usually ends with a culmination of all things horrid. This is when sense and sensibility gets thrown out of the window. This is when logic gets defied. This is when you've drunk enough to effectively lose control. There are angry drunks, hostile drunks, happy drunks, sleepy drunks and violent drunks. I am that drunk who opens his mouth and stops time. I am the drunk who fucks all happiness up no matter how much of it there is. I am the drunk who ebbs the flow of everything good around me. I am the stupidest, most childish, drunk fuck around. In certain other language usages you might be saying I am that proverbial cunt and a half.

Unfortunate Event Eight. Taking a perfectly peaceful [albeit buzzed on liquor] night, most suited for conversing with and sidling up to the girlfriend, and effectively butchering it beyond recognition. With no warning whatsoever and in so doing, vacuuming all joy and niceties out to replace it with unnecessary strife, hate and irritation. I have no excuse. It wasn't the first time. I've exhibited such insanity when at this state before. The limbs work, the mind still thinks but I am not the one doing the thinking. The mouth speaks yet the words are not mine. I did wrong. Very wrong.

The next other time I even contemplate hitting this level would be in a straitjacket in the confines of my own bedroom. Hands away from all communication devices and definitely not in direct contact with any other human who doesn't deserve shit hitting the fan. I think the only way to nip this without it escalating to me sitting at the footsteps of the gallows for some act committed under the influence, is to just stop imbibing the foul stuff. Sounds hilarious, but it's up to me to make it happen and I'll try to keep it to the best of my abilities. I'm depressed. I don't need to be an uncontrollable drunk fuck. It's something everyone can do without.

"Then said Jesus, Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do"
Luke 23:34

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