RACONTEUR-ESQUE SCRIBBLINGS

For some people, maybe. I've had people tell me before that it's not worth it giving your all to your job. "Just work hard from September" they'd say if they saw you working late in January, as we get appraised only in mid December, and three months of 'good' work is apparently sufficient to fool your bosses into thinking that you've been good the whole year. I suppose they get away with such behaviour because their superiors are probably fools anyway.  Now, while I don't think what you do should dictate your life (although sometimes you can't help it when it's in the manufacturing field), I believe that people should be responsible enough to perform tasks they are supposed to do. Feigning ignorance is just unacceptable. Allowing others to pick up their slack when they say that they do not know how to do their own bloody job is just an excuse for laziness. And their superior not giving them an earful for such irresponsible behavio...

You call a hot but dumb girl a bimbo, but what would you call a girl who is not hot but equally dumb? I had an encounter with one of those types yesterday... I don't mind her being not hot, but it was the dumb that I couldn't stand. It all began on Monday morning, starting with an e-mail from my boss regarding a certain problem I was supposed to investigate. With Sherlock Holmes-esque enthusiasm and reasoning (Elementary, my dear Watson), I dove into it, hoping to get some leads before I was imprisoned against my will from 10:00 am till Tuesday afternoon. For that, I had to communicate with a certain person, the person who initiated the chain of e-mails to be exact. To my dismay, I didn't get an immediate response on the office instant messenger. So I went looking for the evidence myself, with hopes of finding some information so that I could proceed with the necessary tests, but the information wasn't where it was supposed to be. Someone must have taken it away. ...

Old man dies on hope, Eyes gauged out, strangled silly, All rejoice inside. A kick in the ass, With a football boot, no less, The footprint stays on. Edited version A kick in the ass, With a football boot, no less, The *studmarks stay on. Red blood on the floor, Mystery killer around, Smothered Gollum at the door. Too much rage and not enough time. I will be back. * An alternative suggestion

First there was a croak. Unlike a frog's of course, because it came from her. She took her blanket, covered her head and went back to sleep. In her head, she thought. I'm not going to work. Not on Sunday ... she will wake up extra early to sneak in an hour's worth of work on Monday! Sunday: Mother's Day. It started well enough, only to have an adequate amount of crazy thrown in by the afternoon. And not the nice kind of crazy, but the cruel, wicked kind. My sister and I had gone to get our 'new' broadband connection (yes, my internet problems have not been fully solved since September last year!!), only to be told to come back at 5pm because they had run out of stock for the modems. I wanted to forgo the whole thing but my sister insisted that we come back later that evening! The thing is we were supposed to go in one big jim bang for some Mother's Day dinner (which was supposed to actually be Mother's Day lunch at first but thanks to people who do...

If there is one thing that annoys me, it's the fact that some people just cannot seem to grasp the idea of privacy. Why don't they understand, if someone doesn't tell you something, then it means they don't want to tell you. Perhaps for obvious reasons. For some unknown reason, people seem to look at me as their secret keeper. They kind of pull me aside and say something and then add "it's a secret, you know". And I nod and acknowledge the fact. That makes me feel like Post Secret at times, but I don't mind. No doubt I have been able to keep people's secrets for years without it being leaked out at all. Ask my sister, she knows. Anyway, as I mentioned in a earlier post, my direct boss had sent in her resignation and it's official at the moment. Everyone knows she's leaving, but the reasons behind her departure and future plans are perhaps known to only a select handful, perhaps those of us who were particularly close to her. The day s...

Dear Mr. Time (or whatever else you may be called), I hope you can read, because this is a desperate plea for more time, please. I just cannot stand spending as much time as I currently do in front of the computer with a mix of processes in mind, a big file, and highlighted segments in numerous excel files that leave me very very confused anymore. It is so annoying to be not able to do anything else (which I'd rather be obviously doing). So yeah, if you're reading this... try to do something. Stop time, or make everyone freeze or something. I don't care! yours truly, Terra.S.

I'm beginning to wonder if the lack of living contributes to the condition where you suddenly find yourself not having much to say on your blog no matter how much you want to. Just for the record, I'm not really dead . I kind of feel dead though... Look at it this way... you see the same people everyday that they haphazardly drop by in your dreams. You practically do the same things everyday, and it takes a whole lot of your time as well, so you don't really have much time for other more interesting activities that may be worth mentioning in your blog. And then when you resign yourself to the fact that that is going to be how it is, someone decides to make it even harder by introducing a whole new concept where everyone else agrees to without giving a thought (mainly because it's not them who have to do it) and you're stuck in the middle. Well, sort of... So yes, it's true. Routine hampers creativity. Puzzle pieces can be blown away by strong winds on Saturd...

I've been away for longer than I like to be away. Of course if I had my way, I'd be around like every single day, but I'm beginning to feel that my own personal time is not mine any longer. Besides the few hours which I use for 'have to do' stuff like eating, sleeping and taking a shower, I find the rest of my time brutally taken away from me by this place I go to daily so that I can earn some $$$. This unfortunately includes Saturdays as well as some Sundays, so I'm left with little time for fun activities like this. And then of course there's also the fact that I'm so mentally and physically exhausted that blogging takes a backseat while I mull over parameters for machines or try to investigate why something has gelled even though it is not supposed to!! So now, it in the early a.m of a warm Saturday morning. Naturally, I should be catching some sleep as I predict that tomorrow (which is actually today, but more of when I wake up) is going to be a ...

Too harrowed in mind, body and soul to think of a proper title for this post, but I need an outlet badly. I'm in pain! The head hurts, fingers are numb (well, sort of), vision is blurry, muscles in every other part that needs to move feel like jelly. Ah! So this is what SAP does to you! I hope to get back to my normal blogging self soon

I've been walking... A lot. Involuntarily. Especially in the past two weeks. And been missing out on proper exercise, but I figured that the walking would cover that. It did, in a way... But.... It's with deep embarassment that I admit that my right hips hurts at this age (late twenties) Typically, I should be in a perfectly fit condition, but certain activities the past two weeks (and they're not in the least very strenuous, either) have left me with a strange pain in the hip. So, now I can't sit comfortably, and walking seems to be a chore, but life goes on, and the walking continues... and so does the pain in the hip. Bleh.

This will be the 3rd draft of whatever I was supposed to write. It's been 3 days since I needed a proper blogging fix, and sadly, I got sidetrackked each time (unavoidable circumstances such as working late, unreliable internet connections and such), hence the 3rd draft. I hope this gets posted up today, although it's becoming less and less relevant as the hours pass by, just like how the air molecules escape from an aging balloon. I have reached the point where I can't seem to come up with a fitting title for this post, and I suppose its partly due to the fact that there's just so many things I want to write about that they're all reaching out, hoping to see their pretty faces on this template. I wanted to put up about my thoughts on 2/3rds of the Grammys (because that's what I watched, the other 1/3rd was spent with House - Hugh Laurie has a fantastic smile, by the way), and I was thinking of posting up something on the funny noises that seem to be coming ...

I just noticed this evening that you can be perfectly content for a maximum of three days without any worries... that is if you chuck all the worries at the back of your head, eat cornflakes sans milk at 10 pm (don't ask why), have a reunion with some really really old pals, sleep very very late at night after half scaring yourself to death with some scary stuff, and listening to your favourite songs (all in no particular order) And then reality sets in at an unexpected moment. You don't have a plan... where do you see yourself in a year? or two? No plan at all! Oh crap! I'm panicking!!!! Why now?