The Weekend Spirit

Weekends.
Two and the half days we squeeze, pack, stretch and fleece to its limits.
To do things we are denied of during weekdays.

We want to stay in AND go out.
To dress down AND dress up
To eat at home AND eat out
To catch up with friends AND catch up with sleep

No matter how draining work has been, we refuse to fritter Friday nights away by going home. Even if it means yawning endlessly and zonkin out during the meet-ups.

No matter how much we need rest, we ambitiously squeeze back to back appointments to meet friends cum shop cum feast cum gym cum catch up- all at once on Saturdays.
Even if gym's forever put off last minute, shopping's a drag because of weary bodies and legs and conversations are incoherent because the minds are switched off

No matter how we ought to settle down, sleep early to gear up for yet another week, we cannot sleep on Sunday nights. Even if it means a painful and difficult Monday ahead fighting lack of sleep.

We refuse to waste a single moment, a minute of the precious two and the half days.
We make up for the deprivation of weekdays with a fiery vengeance.
Rigour, energy, enthusiasm and zest we can never garner during weekdays spring forth in abundance.

This, is the indomitable spirit of the weekend.

More or Less

Sometimes,

The more one sleeps, the more lethargic one feels
The cheerier the tones of the entries, the darker one's mood is
The more one breaks into laughter, the more one chokes back tears within
The more one seeks to find answers, the more the questions that are left in the wake
The sweeter the moment is, the more bitter the aftertaste

There are times when,

The chirpier and animated I get talking about others, the more I hold back about myself
The more 'whatevers' I nonchantly utter, the more it actually matters and the more I care
The more I try to block myself from thinking of something/someone, the more it swirls and plays in my mind
The gentler the admonishment, the more reproachful I feel
The more I took things in my own hands, the less I relied on Him, the more worries, fears, obstacles and confusion befuddled me.

This, more or less...sums up the week.
For me. For family. For frens. For strangers.

A week of routine and surprises, lies and confessions, lost and found, trust and mistrust, leaps, wrestles, trips and triumphs. We've lost some and gained some.

But Lord, I no longer want to ask why. I no longer want to know why. For I KNOW, Your plan is the BEST PLAN. One that I never need to fret over, nor need to ponder if it can be relied on, up to standard or fool-proof. For one day, I would learn and recognise that it's the best path for me.
Even though fickle me may strongly believe today and doubt tomorrow, trust one day and
waver the next, be renewed today but battered tomorrow, thank You, Lord for never withdrawing Your promise to me.

A promise that would never be broken. The promise that would supply all the needs I ever had (Phil 4:19) so that I would " not walk in darkness, but have the light of life" (John 8:12).

To You who Bumped into Me

Hi colleague,

On weekdays, I didn't make eye contact or say hi to you because:

- I was in a rush and was too lazy to slap any concealer/make up on those dark circles and zits
- I was running late and I still can't run fast enough in those heels to make it to the office in time if i stopped to talk
- I couldn't remember your name and don't want to resort calling you 'eh'
- I haven't read the newspaper/ listened to the weather forecast on radio so I don't know enough to sustain a discussion with you on the weather all the way from the bus stop to the office
- Much as I would love a break, I don't want to take MC (at least not at the moment) after you loudly announced your presence by shooting uncovered sneezes in my direction, charmed me with your raspy voice and electrified me with your beady, sore and red eyes.

However, this weekend, I didn't say hi again and seemed desperate to go...

- Not because I am high-strung and antisocial (but that said, perhaps I am:P)
- Not because I was too embarrassed of how slack I looked, with thick glasses and dishevelled hair
- Not because you were a pain to talk to

But because I was in the midst of an activity:
- Which turns on the passion and adrenalin rushes
- Which I hate to be interrupted, in case it foils my strategy
- That required my utmost focus and concentration to plan ahead-
i) on what food/meals I had to sacrifice the next few days,
ii) of how I am going to appease my mum and get her acceptance when I get home,
iii) of how I can make my way around the imposed limit.

I was at (click on the link)...

Learnt

In 2 weeks, I've learnt:

• To balance on the jerky bus on the way to work to make use of those precious few minutes to reply the backlog of smses
• Not to be embarrassed when I go down one escalator, and up another to find that I am back in the same spot in the maze called Raffles Place MRT station
• To navigate the nooks and crannies to discover food places, decide on what to eat and gulp down lunch in less than 45 mins
• 30 new names and forgot/mispronounced/mistook 20 of them at one time or another
• The art of staring intently at the feet whenever in the elevator to minimise the meeting of gazes and the need for small talk
• To shut up immediately upon entering the washroom no matter how harmless the conversation may seem
• That the way to get many things done is to do it alone

For better or for worse, the work persona is developing.