just minishorts.

I've just begun to get used to the idea that I won't be sitting at an official office desk doing work for a fixed salary, this time next week. There?s an option for people like me, 'freelancing', and no, uh, it?s not exactly something exciting to look forward to. But that's going to be the main source of income for me for quite sometime, until I do find the time and motivation to want to work for an organization again.

Around this time a month ago I finally found the strength to do what I've always said I'll do one day. Previously I had been talking to many people who're more experienced, and some have mentioned that one and a half years in a first job is more than sufficient, and that 'it's time to go'.

I love editing to bits and it's something that I knew I'd always wanted to do. Look, I'm not exactly an expert in the language, nor do I read enough or know enough about linguistics theory, or language acquisition applications, or English grammar, to be able to do a good job?my ex-director told me herself that my English is terrible for an English editor. But it was 'that passion that sparkled everytime you talk about a book that made me want to take you into the company', and this were the very words that kept me abreast in times of dire straits.

It's just, there have been too many occasions of 'dire straits' whilst trying to earn a living doing a job that I've always dreamt of doing.

When I first joined the working society, I was chirpy and on sugar-high almost every day. I would wake up very early, scoot off to the office at 7.15 daily (work would start about an hour later) and worked on scripts all day. Doing overtime without claims did not use to be a problem to me, I was always happy to do what I can. And I used to hate Fridays, because it meant I would be going home to a normal life all over again… This was the kind of employee I was. Young, impressionable, and yes, maybe overly enthusiastic?the very same type that paves the yellow brick road to Burn-out-opia.

Oh, but I loved the job. I really did.

Slowly, things changed. The workload became quite unbearable, and while I was still obliging, I slowly began to lose my motivation as I realized that I wasn't performing all that well anymore. At the same time, I saw an entire team of colleague leaving the company, and I took on jobs that were handed down… In the midst of all this, I strived to make the ends connect, but mistakes were unavoidable, and leftovers don't always taste good. Management was not sympathetic, and always, I was coaxed to explain the situation of things (most of which I did not know the head or tail of reason to). After a while, I learnt the art of 'hypocrisy', and realized it could get me places and help me get things easier… but it sure sucked like mad everytime I had to opt for this technique to get things done.

It didn't help that I felt fear everytime I heard the slow beating footsteps of my new boss everytime she strutted down the corridor, and when a feeling of being non-competent sets in, you slowly lose your drive. One thing leads to another, and suddenly, I would be staring at the clock, willing the hour hand to turn faster so that it would strike 5, and then I would be gladly ridden off this torturous cycle. The work had become a chore I dreaded to pieces.

At the end of last year, I had a long talk with my former boss, who now works from home at her own comfortable pace. I told her my concerns, and expressed the agony that was beginning to build up in me. And then I told her, 'It's true. I really feel like throwing in the towel.'

'You still like editing, don't you?'
'Of course. It's the very spirit of me and it's who I am. The job that I've always wanted to have. And it tears me apart to know that I'm beginning to hate it.'
'Passion is always a good thing. Something that kills the passion is not a good thing. Don't stay until your passion dies.'

That was a few months ago. When finally, the end of January struck me, I decided that I'd enough, and I was going to force-quit my position, at the risk of losing a valuable source of income. It's an idealistic move, one that's yes, very stupid?I might not ever get a job in the same line again, and might be driven to take up some executive desk position from the point of nil-experience, with a pay-cut. I might not even be able to work in publishing ever again!

But I'm willing to do it, just so that my passion for the written word, and the publishing arena, stays intact. Even if, at this point in time, the scripts that lay on my table are stagnant and not-improving, I'm taking the ostracizations that will arrive with my impending departure from the company in stride. It's not that I don't give a damn. It's more of a concern that I might reach a point of I-don't-give-a-fucking-damn sometime in a future if I continue in this system.

And so, I bid farewell to the system and look forward to welcoming the return of my passion.

Then, on the day I got back (12 Feb), I was whisked away by the Putra EB '01 gang for a lou sang dinner and mamak session…

I'm ill. I caught a flu on Sunday, and it morphed into this really horrible fever that didn't want to go away. Eric brought me to the office and had to pick me up again at 10 a.m. to take me to the doctor's. In the end, I got myself a medical chit, and found myself sleeping the day away while Eric helped my mum clean things up after me. Sheesh… what a way to spend Valentine's, eh?

Earlier this year we agreed that V-day was to be sliced off the list of couple celebrations… but we were still planning to go out to have a nice meal… Well, so much for the plans, since I fell so ill. In the end my mother had to cook a really watery porridge broth for me, and poor Eric had to share that with Mum and me.

It's funny how your emotions get all mixed up when you're trying to nurse an impending flu/fever. I've been rather edgy for the past few days, and Eric's patience has been fantastically admirable—I'm at a point where I look back, remember how he handled my peculiarities, and think, 'Gosh, how does he do it?' How do I feel now, despite this horrible bout of sniffles?

Extremely blessed and lucky. Especially since I know how insufferable and impossible I can be.

This was what he did for me… On Sunday Eric offered to be my personal chauffeur for gloomy Monday. And then, of course, I fell ill, and he brought me everywhere… got lunch for Mum and me, made me herbal tea and sat with me until the fever broke. To top it up, he went and bought me a copy of The Da Vinci Code's Special Illustrated Edition, and sat with this nutcase editor who bend her neck silly, scrutinizing the images in the book. I have to tell you that this book is a really really lovely copy of Brown's run-of-the-mill bestseller, and Mum thinks it's a really lovely gift for Valentine's.

If you're wondering who and why, just FYI, Nick's wrote a piece about Eric.

Why now? Why didn't I talk about it before?

Maybe it's because yesterday was Valentine's Day and I sort of shortchanged him by being ill… Maybe it's because of the previous failures… Maybe it's because I keep hearing this tingling alarm that suggests that minishorts.net might have something to do with relationship failures…

But what really happened was this.

Sometime in October last year, I was going through a breakup, and April had come to visit. We were lazing in a corner of Citrus Park's Strudels, walking through the year that was 2004 and talking how our lives had progressed (or regressed) since then. I remember my concerns, how a beautiful friendship had deteriorated to the state it had become, and a deep sense of regret. We had long conversations, and I came to this vow:

'I'm not going to get involved with ANYONE for at least a year. I'm going to make it happen, I'm not going to meet anyone, I'm just going to concentrate on being single and enjoying it.'

I really put my efforts to it. I met up with old friends, focused on work, focused on building up my life again, focused on family again. It took some time, getting used to being single, but I drove into the position easily, and it was so comfortable at that point in time I told my mother that it didn't feel that bad to be single for life at all.

Just that, I didn't count on meeting someone that soon.

I recall how I finally came out of my shell and dragged poor Nick into my life, telling him to help me out of this little rut that I was stuck in, and getting his help in helping me stay firm in my convictions. I got out really frequently, and I led a fantastic social life for a while?immediately after my re-entry into singledom, I was watching an average of one movie a week, mamak was a daily recurring event, I took on a few freelance copywriting work and went through an extreme book-binge.

Then one fine night, Nick brought me out to mamak to meet up with his two best buds, and I had found a new bunch of mates to hang out with. Mamaks led on to Matrix pool Fridays, to IMAX theatre outings, to daily multiple SMSes, to nightly conversations over the phone, and to suppers at the nearest tong sui pos.

Then one day, we became it.

They say it's when you're not looking that you find that someone special. It took me quite some time to admit defeat, that my little vow would not be fulfilled. Many things had to be considered, especially the fact that I had just come out of a relationship with someone else. But in the end, the few people who know how, understand why I went ahead anyway, and they're the few that really matter in my life.

Actually I'm glad I broke that vow. It's nice to be part of something good, and I really do want this to last.

Well. It's been a long time since I celebrated the new year in Mum's hometown. So I'll be off for several days. This is what I will be looking forward to:

1. Angpaus.
2. Seeing my granny. (Look, I see my granny a few times a year, so the angpaus are slightly more important here).
3. The gambling sessions. (My youngest uncle has bragged about turning the family home into a casino for all ages. Been summoned to bring more cash. Well. This should come in with the angpaus).
4. The BBQ night. (My second youngest uncle has bragged about turning the family basketball court—yes, there is a basketball court in my grandmum's new house—into a BBQ party area on Day 3. Can't wait!!!).
5. The daily pig-outs. (CNY is ALWAYS about food. Yum yum!)

The things I'm not looking forward to:

1. The almost-certain weight gain. (I'm preparing for damage control, nonetheless. Even if it most prolly won't work).
2. The 'for sure' question from my aunties and uncles, 'Eh when are you bringing your boyfriend home?' (Every year it's the same thing, whether or not I balik kampung)
3. That other question, 'When am I getting an ang pau from you?' (Well. Not until I get married. Which doesn't look probable anytime soon.)

But it's a trip I'm looking forward to. Gong Xi Fa Cai!!!