Earlier today, I was debating with myself whether I should go for a dip in the pool again. After all, I didn’t really swam much yesterday and I am adamant about making it into the next Singapore Olympics Swim Team. This is considering the fact that the Singapore team needs a bigger joke than they’d made this year and I’m patriotic enough to make it happen.
It was a tough decision. As the saying goes, once bitten twice shy. It was the case of once caught in the rain, twice a drenched chicken for me. And I didn’t want to be a drenched chicken, especially with the avian flu going around. The sky did look cloudy as well. I was indecisive on this matter and had paced around my living room for 1 hour, wearing thin the floor. What finally led me to the pool was the neighbour’s, who lived one floor directly beneath me, complain about how his chandelier was losing its gripe on the ceiling. I figured paying for the pool’s entrance fee is cheaper than paying the restructuring fee for my thinning floor, his ceiling.
The angels must have gotten bladder stones from yesterday’s relentless peeing for there wasn’t even a drizzle today. You may start thinking I must have had a blissful time at the pool. Wrong! I did manage to swim more laps than yesterday, but before I could even say thank goodness for the sun, the pool was invaded by little critters. These little critters from the neighbourhood primary school, all wearing either bright yellow, green or pink goggles, commandeered the pool swiftly like well-trained commandoes. All four corners were taken, leaving just a tiny centre lane to be shared among us, the poor folks who paid to come in to watch this circus.
Pity, that the pool space was wasted on these critters learning how not to drown instead of us folks who’re just honestly trying to make it into the Olympics team. Even the lifeguards were scared away by these critters. Or maybe it’s the presence of one group of critters who’re learning life saving skills that gave the green light for the lifeguards to retreat to their cave for poker session. How nice. I’d never felt so safe in my life before in a pool, knowing that I’d became a lab mouse if I started drowning to these bunch of 12 years old amateurs. It’s as reassuring as having an umbrella for a parachute if the plane I’m in become love struck and starts going for a kiss with Mother Earth. I’ll mostly likely be knocked senseless by the floats or get tangled by the ropes, apparatuses that supposedly should save my life, if they even attempt to save me. If I was drowning, I’ll sink myself faster if I’d even see one of them amateurs having a go at saving me. After all, in all probability, the ending will be the same.
One of the coaches seemed to have discovered the secret of winning Ian Thorpe. He was swimming with his duckbill cap on. That must have done wonders in the aerodynamics of swimming because in a blink, he’d swam back to where he’d started. Or else, he hadn’t moved at all. That’s when I reckoned that the sun had gotten to me and decided to leave. No point getting barbecued when I was going for one later anyway.
The barbecue/steamboat affair was a treat by the company I’m currently employed in as a part-timer. It’s a thank you dinner for all the hard work we’d put in the last project. I heard it’s the first time the company is treating part-timers in its god-knows-how-long of history. I felt so appreciated and valued, especially since it was only the second project I’d worked on. This made me resolved me to slack even harder because that was how I’d worked so far. If there’s a slackiest part-timer award, I’m sure to win it hands down. To compound things further, the pressure is on the full timers to get the work completed in time, not us part-timers. This gave me the license to work as I wished to. Flexible timing, no stress and even get treats. What better work can I look for.
I had quite a fun time there tonight. As fun as a barbecue/steamboat affair can go anyway. Apart from the usual banter about each other’s culinary skills and eating charred food, a couple of mind stimulating questions got tossed around as when geniuses gather usually do. One of the questions asked was why a person can down 2 litres of beer in a meal but not 2 litres of water? It’s the gas I ventured. It’s all in the psychology of enjoyment, another said. Nothing conclusive came out of this questions except a lot of burps and laughter.
Another question posed was, if a beer has an alcoholic content of 8%, poured into 4 cups, what’s the alcoholic content in each cup? I smacked my forehead immediately after hearing this question. Of course it’s 2% each! They think I failed my maths in school? It totally insulted my IQ.
Ha! I was just joking of course. Each cup will still have 8% alcoholic content. Don’t think I’m that far away from being a genius. If anyone of you had even hesitated for a second after reading that question, I suggest you retake your Primary School Leaving Exams again. Otherwise, you’re welcome to take lessons from me, certified smart-ass.
An additional question thrown out was, why is the manhole round (in America context)? Very thought provoking aren’t it? Well, I got a whole list of explanation which I’m not going to reveal to you. Because this is one of those surprise and totally irrelevant questions they pop in interviews. Go crack your brains or alternatively you can crack your piggy bank and buy my answers.
On my way back home, I heard on the news this interesting campaign by Taiwanese government on deterrence weapons against China. I can’t really recall the content, but the slogan goes something like if all Taiwanese purchase one cup of pearl tea (i.e. bubble tea) less each day, Taiwan can deter a Chinese attack. It’s nice to hear Taiwan is turning to weapons of least destruction. I do agree with them flooding China with pearl tea will cause considerably less damage. It may even fuel the pearl tea industry and hence stimulate its economy! Then again, did I mistaken that if each Taiwanese save on a cup of pearl tea each day, it'll equal to the cost of buying deterrence weapons? Anyway, if same principle applies in the local context, I’m glad to know I’ve contributed to Singapore’s defense in some way as I only buy pearl tea once in a blue moon.