Life GPS Needed!

 "... I gave up my pride and

turned back."

It's been 5 weeks now and I am no less miserable. I find myself tossing left and right in the middle of the night searching for the little rascal. Sometimes I wake up to see myself hugging the blanket like how I used to hug him when we were sleeping. I even cried watching Youtube videos of people and their newly found furry loves. Ahh~ fuck! I think I should be given some leeway for profanity given the circumstances, don't I?

So miserable that in the midst of hyperventilating with all the claustrophobic Singaporean skyscrapers and the future uncertainties, I burst out my good ol' Nike Free Run 3.0 to Singapore's finest Chinese Garden to clear my fucking mind. They say "when in Rome Singapore, do as the Romans Singaporeans do" so I've decided to take the advice and followed some mid-century grey-haired men who seemed to know where they are running to only to find them running faster and longer than my quarter-century body can physically managed. Before I knew it, my guiding angels uncles were so far ahead at the end of the running track that I've decided to wing it and run on my own. After all how hard can it be to run around a recreational park? Pffbt... it's just a loop around the lake, it will be like running in circles, just keep going forward. How wrong! Lets just say after several loops in search of an exit, I gave up my pride and turned back.

What, you may ask, does a have-no-idea-what-she-wants unemployed person have in her mind? Every single thing about nothing.

• Job hunting business e.g. what position, which company, how do I break in, what sector, how much should the expected compensation be
• Oishii i.e. when will I ever see my furry love again
• MBA vs MSF e.g. which degree should I pursue, how can I finance my degree, what can the degree do for me, which school
• Starting up my own business e.g. how should I do this, wedding planning vs food industry, am I good enough to penetrate the market
• Mr. Right e.g. where is he

The list never ends... I, afterall, gave up my pride and turned back to the starting point, starting from scratch. If it was cooking, I would have loved this whole "starting from scratch" philosophy, kneading some scrumptious pasta from fine semolina flour but not this shit, this is real life problems. The endless possibilities from here are exhilarating but making me teeth-grindingly unsure of the direction I should take. Ahh, I should have wished for a damn life GPS for my birthday!

An OCD Blogger's Life Is Hard.

"it's not that I chose to be so

ANALytic..."

As much as I vowed to reincarnate this blog and have been consistently doing so at the back of my mind, writing countless post with my imagination, I've never have the courage to post those thoughts. Even as I typed the previous first sentence, I spent an unimaginable 30 minutes glaring, scowling every letter and punctuation as if a single misplaced comma is going to apocalytically affect me 30 years from now on. It's ridiculous! (Hah, I just caught myself rereading this paragraph and edit it for the umpteenth time.) Because of this, unfortunately, some of my wittiest magnum opus of my life never really left my brain until I forget about it the following second. Ugh! A blogger's life is hard especially for a forgetful perfectionist. (Oxymoron isn't it-how can you be a perfectionist when you forgot what you were trying to perfect a second ago?)

Yet, this analytical mindset of mine is how, my friends, I work for a living... or at least used to two months ago. :-( It's not that I chose to be so ANALytic, it's a skill I somewhat have and groomed over my now soon-to-be-quarter-century lifespan that I can't really shake off.

(So what was my point again for this post? Damn it, I'm losing it again!)

Yes, what I was trying to say is that I can't shake this temptation of mine to go over my posts and edit and reedit them to death. Somehow in the midst of the myriad editing, the core of each post was drown by my obsession for perfection until the question of "What was the point of this again?" slapped my face. And I, then, click that "Delete Post" button without any hesitation but a burst of frustration.

Of course, there are times when I reread my posts and my jaw seemed to find its way to the floor in disbelief of how emotional/geeky/unintelligent/ridiculous/incoherent/immature/over-philosophical I sound. And I, of course, click that "Delete Post" button again without any hesitation but this time with humiliation for my poor quality control.

And when I look at the meme/stick figure image I have at the beginning of this post, my belly vibrated with sad laughter because I would be that person to abuse all my brain juice just to decipher why my cup is so close to others.

So is this a cry of help of my OCDness? Hell no! I like the way I roll, I love the way my brain is wired because sometimes I make the simplest connection of things that people often times overlooked. Yes, it can be a overkill but the ultimate question is, am I a man or a muppet do I blog for me or for others? :-)