December 31, 2015

overwhelmingly plateaued.

... is the oxymoron that 2015 was/has been, in a nutshell. 

I knew it would somehow be different from 2014 -- which is what I anticipated the moment we closed the 2014 chapter, but I frankly never ever expected 2015 to turn out the way it did. 

Not in a million years, I didn't. 

I've lost count of the many times I thought about penning the things that tickled my fancy; of the things I observed, of the things I hated, of the things I loved, of the things I thought, of the place we now call our home and of course, of my son who lights up my whole wide world with him being at my most favourite age of all -- but nothing ever came out. Not even on my scribbling paper, where I would sometimes go when I didn't have the time to log on to my account. 

Instead, I hopped around from one favourite blog to another, just marveling at how others were coping with their lives and being able to write so eloquently of their day to day on-goings. I also marvelled at how the younger ones seem to have so much youth, so much passion in whatever they were doing and most of all -- of how much humour they seem to still have in them, which I quite frankly miss and wish I still had. 

xxx

Honestly, one of the reasons why I stopped writing is because I hated the tone of my posts. 

There are so many things I should be thankful and grateful for in 2015. Like for example, despite the imposition of GST and the increasing cost of living, we still found ourselves to be relatively comfortable; we had a choice -- if we didn't like A we could always switch to B or C or so on and so forth. BUT we or rather I just couldn't make myself sound grateful for all the things I have/had. 

Yes, it's true that I may have been too busy living life to the fullest in 2015 to even have the time to write about them or to seem grateful about them through my blog posts but having been a blogger for the longest time, it never occurred to me that I would ever be bitten by the Mental Block Bug! Yeah sure, I've been bit by it before but to suffer so much from the bite and for so long after? I never in a million years thought!

xxx

Everything in 2015 seems like such a remote past to me right now. Everything in the first quarter where we were busy with our Big Move seems like such a blur and everything after that -- even more of a blur. Days passed by us in rapid speed, every single day, and yet every single day was a drag. We were overwhelmed with change, but at the same time, our changes had bit by bit plateaued.

xxx

Until, I sat at the toilet seat one day, holding the stick while I peed, wondering why my period never came (the last time it did that was some good 4/5 years ago).

And then I knew that 2016 had to be better than any of the best years we've had before.

 xxx

So, goodbye 2015, I am glad you're finally over.

And welcome 2016 -- I sure do hope that you'd be one of the better ones.


December 18, 2015

the "apple".

Since I reinstalled the FB app on my phone, I've been getting numerous memory reminders on a daily basis -- which I consider both a blessing and a curse at the same time.

And today, one of the memories was exactly that -- a good and sad memory at the same time. 

Sad, considering the current ongoings involving changes in our organisation, which shall not be told so publicly. And good because back then, we really did find amusement in the simplest, silliest things -- which in this case was the "apple".

Those memories date back to so many years ago -- 6 years to be exact and though I have obviously moved on with life, got myself some equally good new friends and only occasionally keep in touch with those whom I've had (real good) memories with, I can't help but feel a little nostalgic. 

Truth is, a huge part of me misses being able to be so carefree about everything, including blogging -- without the underlying fear of hurting, annoying or offending anyone unnecessarily. Oh, and also without the fear of having someone or anyone maliciously screenshot my words/pictures to be twisted to their own advantage as as when they please. 

I don't know what's become of the online scene these days, but I find myself annoyed (probably unnecessarily too, let's blame the hormones for this) with how people think they know so much of other people, just by being their "friend" online, when in actual fact -- they don't. 

Which is probably one the biggest reasons why there's more than 10+ pending "follower" requests on my IG, which have been left "unnoticed". Not that I'm such a big shot, no. But I sometimes question the motive of those who "follow" people who they don't even say hi to when face to face. I'm probably guilty of this too, but trust me, I am trying to not "follow" so many "acquaintances" these days, because tak tahu lah apa pekdahnya kepada diri sendiri.

Having said that, I really do miss those times when we could joke about 3 apples having a threesome -- without anyone taking any offence or telling us that we are perempuan sesat yang akan masuk neraka.

December 17, 2015

the reset button.

Yesterday, FB's memories brought me back to a memory from 2 years ago --

"Heaven favours the strong and the just."

And I have been cracking my head eversince, just trying to remember what it was that happened a couple of years ago, which warranted such a statement.

I still can't remember but I suspect that it had to do with one of the major changes we've had to go through in our lives. 

Here's the thing -- every New Year seems to bring with it not only a whole new year, but also a reset button for our personal lives too. 

And though most of the time I am well armed and ready for what ever that may come my way (as the case is this time around), this particular reset button brings with it a different kind of feel

The closer we get to the day -- the more real it gets -- and the more emotional I become just thinking about the eventualities, the possibilities, the loneliness and the empty other side of everything

So some days, I allow myself to break down into a puddle of tears each time I think of the inevitability of having to press the reset button. Yes, heaven favours the strong... but surely there in strength in my softness?

3 more days to go. 

Bismillah. 

To the reset button we shall go.

December 10, 2015

Against all odds.

"Real love does not end just because things get difficult, 
Real love can withstand anything, 
You don't just simply give up because it's hard."


Some days, I just feel like saying, " Don't Go", but I know that that would just be selfish.

So I muster all the strength I can gather, put up a smile on my face and tell myself -- I'm stronger than I think-- and most definitely stronger than anyone else thinks. 

You don't know how strong you are, until being strong is your only choice.

10 days to go. 

Bismillah. 

December 06, 2015

This one's for you, October.

"Can I lay by your side?
Next to you, you
And make sure you're alright
I'll take care of you
I don't want to be here if I can't be with you tonight

I'm reaching out to you
Can you hear my call?
This hurt that I've been through
I'm missing you, missing you like crazy"

Only because today was such a good day, I have to constantly remind myself that anything could happen to anyone -- like how October happened to me and you.

"Told me not to cry when you were gone.."

And now I know it's impossible.

So this one's for you, October.

December 05, 2015

as told by a 3-year old.

"Boy pakai spender. Girl pakai spendie."

"Boy pakai spender. Girl pakai panty."

"Bukan. Kalau boy pakai spender, girl pakai spendie."


Sometimes, we forget all the lessons we can learn from these little persons.

It doesn't matter that he got it wrong. 

It matters though, how pure and literal he can be and how I must always tread carefully -- just enough to be sure that I can sleep soundly at night knowing that I have tried to get this whole motherhood thing right.

And it matters to know that it's okay to make mistakes -- whether you're 3 or you're 30

Just as long as you've really, really tried. 


December 04, 2015

when finding a purpose.

"Whoever makes the Hereafter his preoccupation, then Allah places freedom from want in his heart, gathers his affairs, and Dunya (wordly life) comes to him despite being reluctant to do so. And whoever makes Dunya his preoccupation, then Allah places poverty in front of his eyes, makes his affairs scattered, and nothing of Dunya comes to him except that which has been decreed for him"

- Y A S M I N  M O G A H E D

Probably one of my most favourite quotes from Reclaim Your Heart. 

And honestly like a nutshell of both my 2014 and 2015 in a short long story. 

Sometimes I need to be reminded that piety and piousness don't always come in the most overt of forms. 

But rather, it is in the underlying purpose in whatever we do, that matters. 

Sure, we've got to strike a balance between that and niat tak menghalalkan cara

But seeing for myself the stark differences on how 2014 and 2015 turned out for me, I've got to say -- it's worth the shot. 

When finding a purpose, Hereafter is your shot.

December 03, 2015

this one reminds me of you.

"You got that James Dean day dream look in your eye
And I got that red lip classic thing that you like
And when we go crashing down, we come back every time.
Cause we never go out of style
We never go out of style

You got that long hair, slicked back, white t-shirt.
And I got that good girl faith and a tight little skirt,
And when we go crashing down, we come back every time.
Cause we never go out of style
We never go out of style."

A seat for two on the steps. Under the spotless, starless sky. Relaying stories for the day.

It somehow felt overdue. But all the same, the timing felt just right.

And this song reminds me of you -- and all the good times leading to that seat for two.

December 02, 2015

the half way mark

Uh-oh, dancin' past the point of no return
Let go, we can free ourselves of all we've learned
I love this secret language that we're speaking
Say it to me, let's embrace the point of no return
Let's embrace the point of no return
Let's embrace the point of no return

This has been playing in my head since last night! We've reached this point so I figured, I might as well embrace it.

If you don't get what my posts on all these lyrics are all about, read here


December 01, 2015

so, here's the deal

To commemorate December -- and in anticipation of the New Year, I've decided to write either song lyrics or quotable quotes or passages from materials which I have read or came across, just so you know that I'm here, though sometimes I might not be that okay.

What my day is like/will be like or how I feel will depend solely on how you decipher the things I'm about to write in the next 31 days.

So, here goes my first one --

"Hello, it's me. I was wondering if after all these years you'd like to meet. To go over everything. They say that time's supposed to heal ya..."

August 17, 2015

the extra mile.

I finished my 12 kilometer run in about 1 hour and 42 minutes -- average of 12 minutes per lap (1 mile/1.6 kilometres). Not much to shout out about, but after all things considered, I would say it's no small feat either.

Here's the "funny thing" -- I thought that I had signed up for a 10 km run instead of 12 km and confidently told my husband so just the night before -- until I saw the distance of my run on my bib, which I later confirmed with the deets on my confirmation slip.

Don't.know.what.I.was.thinking. So, don't ask. 

What's important is that I didn't allow myself to become disheartened by my "minor mistake" (minor la sangat. difference of an extra mile plus is no joke!), decided to keep on pushing and going non-stop although I was starting to go half-crazy once I reached the 6 km mark and I finished without vomiting -- or falling or tripping or feeling like a total loser. 

I am just happy that I am now a 12 km finisher ;)


Running -- I think is one of those life-changing decisions I have ever made. EVER. 

Sure, I've always been active. Sure, I've always loved sports. But running such long distances, pushing myself to the limit and feeling absolutely empowered although I run real slow like a siput? Really, who would have thought running would have that kind effect on me, right?

I've got another one coming up in October and I'm all excited and sad about it at the same time. Excited because I love night runs; sad because it's the last one I signed up for, for this year.

Oh, well. Girl's got to do what she's got to do, right?

"...you can do everything and be everything…just NOT at all once." - Sleepless in KL.  Best honest advice I've heard in years.

Anyways, next run -- bring it on! (hopefully with more practice!)


August 13, 2015

move -- you are not a tree.

Some days are like today -- I wake up with "Sunshine" as my middle name and I'm just happy to go to work.

But some days (which these days seem like most), I.literally.drag.my.feet.

I even feel that way after taking many days off for a break!

People often tell me that if I don't like where I am -- I should move. After all, I am not a tree and I agree; but only on the part about the tree. 

It's really not that simple you see -- like it isn't for so many of us out there. It's not just about our commitments or housing loans or any other typical reason you can think of. 

Here is the (ironic) thing -- I actually like my line of work and I don't mind it at all; but I'm just tired, which I think is pretty acceptable seeing that it's now my 7th year in Service; longer than the period of time I've been married. 

I don't hate hate my job, I just need some time off. Because just like all other things in life, familiarity breeds contempt. 

This has got me thinking about how sucky Service is -- it doesn't give you the chance to return once you leave; like a talak tiga kind of thing. Because sometimes, when you go through confusing times such as this -- all you want is to try something else. 

But you can't.

Hence, when anyone reading Law asks me what they should do after getting their LLB, I tell them that they should go do their Chambering. Sure, they'll lose out on seniority and the other what-nots in Service, but at least, they would know what it feels like to be on the other side of the fence --

and not wonder for the rest of her life whether she would have liked it... or not (although she knows for a fact that she hates Civil Procedure hehe). 

Be that as it may, too late for me to find out now, so I really have got to find myself some remedy! 

And all I can think of are-

Cuti belajar (boleh consider).
Cuti tanpa gaji (boleh cuba kalau nak mati).
Cuti bersalin (haahahaah heeeheeheee).

On that note, I am late, you know. Bahahahaha saja kasi kontroversi.


August 11, 2015

the last thing on your mind.

last seen at ... 5.06 p.m.

Last message I read had a timestamp of 5.06 p.m.

I may already be 30 but I've discovered that I still find pleasure in all the simple pleasures in life 

-- like knowing that I was the last thing on your mind.


August 04, 2015

oh yes, I am OK.

The other day, my mother in law dropped me a one-liner, which got me thinking. It was in relation to her question of whether or not I was okay, which, honest to God, is a question I try answering honestly to myself first, every single day. 

I ask myself the question every single day, because it seems like alot of other people around me are curious about the same as well. 

Why is your blog private? 

Why is your Insta feed so quiet?

Why is the tone of your posts so different?

Why are you so different?

And although most days I feel OK, the rest of the world seem to feel otherwise and whether or not I care about what they think or feel, I know that those who have taken the time to ask me personally are those who really, truly care because they made the decision to not gossip about me and my so-called change, but thought it would be better to ask me directly instead. 

So, anyway. When I told my mother in law that I was "OK je. Biasa lah stress sikit-sikit.", she then asked me again what I was stressed out about, to which I answered... "Sa tak tahu lah, Mak..."

And then, she dropped it

"Stress tak tahu punca ni lah stress yang paling bahaya."

So, it got me thinking about what it was that I was actually stressed out about because I've been told that unidentified sources of stress could lead to that thing we all know as... depression

And although I am pretty sure that I am not depressed because there's really no reason to be depressed, I do know that not many people (probably myself included) are willing to accept and admit that they are suffering from such condition. 

In my attempts to ensure that I am of optimum mental health, I went through my blog posts (thank God, I love writing crap) to find a lead of some sort and my discovery shocked me.

This year has been a year of too much self-loathing. Too many meltdowns. Too many regrets over "failed attempts at perfection". Too much drama. Too much inner conflict. Too much negativity. Too much change. Too much bottling up. Too much caving in.  

This year in a nutshell has been a year of too many too muches, if there is such a thing. 

Be that as it may, since I woke up this morning with a spring in my step, I've made a mental pact with myself to acknowledge and celebrate each day that I wake up happy, just so the final quarter of this year doesn't go to waste.

Sure, I've been feeling a little sucky (a little, yeah right bahahaha) in 2015, but in sha Allah, I'll be OK. 

And just for the record, today, I am OK.

July 02, 2015

beautiful soul.

It was a Saturday night and we were driving back from my Aunty's house after buka puasa. Luqman (the radio-hogger) was in another car so we had the radio to ourselves! Yippee! Since my car battery went dead on me a few weeks back, we lost all our favourite radio stations so my husband was unable to find LiteFM (yes, LITEFM). We finally found the station and a few minutes after, Jesse McCartney's Beautiful Soul was aired. 

You should have seen how happy we were to finally hear something decent (and familiar) on air! Jesse McCartney was playing! On LiteFM! The station that plays Classic Hits All Day... (!!!) Ok... 

Then it hit me -- we're old. I'd like to say that we're just older but no (please, Beautiful Soul is considered classic ok), we're actually old. 

And we both grew older together. 

I started dating him from about a decade ago.

We planned on getting married, almost didn't get married, and then we got married.

We had a child together. And we want more together.

We survived a 6-month long distance relationship. And we both had to relearn how to live together again, together.

We bought a house together. And we now live in it together. 

And despite all the togetherness, we still argue and fight and cry (well, I cry) to try and figure out what's going on in each other's mind; or what we both feel; or what's making either one of us happy or not.

Even after all this while. 

And then, it hit me again -- of how much our relationship has changed (or evolved, more like) and how that has changed him, changed me, and changed us. Or is it really that he changed, and I changed and we changed, and that's why our relationship too, has changed? I can't quite figure out which is which and what came first. 

All I know is that we're somewhat different than when we first started. 

And although I know that we can't be 15 or 25 forever (and I don't want to be 15 forever) and growing up and living this journey called life just has to be done before we are called to meet our Creator someday, I can't help but miss... us. Yes, US. The goofy couple who walked through the rain to get me my Theodore. The crazy couple who surprised each other by getting on a bus just to spend a couple of hours at the bus station eating KFC. The simple couple who used to make some random 45 minutes in the week the best date in months. I also miss those times when smartphones were a thing of the unknown and that when we were together, we didn't have anyone else "third-wheeling"-- just us.

Of course we had a kid, and that changed us. Of course, we moved house and that too, changed us. 

But I can't help but miss the US that I once knew. 

And that tiny glimpse of us on that Saturday night made me realise that deep down somewhere, both of us were still there, albeit (majorly) altered. We just have to work harder to fall in love with a different version of the same person, I guess?

Because beneath all our alterations, I'm pretty sure that there is still that beautiful soul we once knew (plus of course that guy and girl who still loves to sing along to Beautiful Soul and every other classic hits we grew up listening to, of course). 

Maybe we'll live and learn, maybe we'll crash and burn
maybe you'll stay, maybe you'll leave,
maybe you'll return...
maybe another fight, maybe we won't survive,
maybe we'll grow,
we'll never know,
'cause baby you and I,
we're just ordinary people,
we don't know which way to go. 

 

June 25, 2015

there are way bigger priorities past 530 pm.

Everyday at 530 pm, I wonder how to explain (to insert black space _________) that I've been up for a good 13-14 hours and that I've been working round the clock since hence the pressing need for me to head back home. Wait, scratch that; explaining is not the problem, making people understand is.

At a work place where the hours or rather after hours are the determinant of one's productivity, I find myself treading on eggshells as 530 pm approaches and planning escape routes has become one of my biggest agendas on a working day. Though pretty amusing at first, I really am starting to get a little agitated over the fact that I'm made to feel guilty or worse -- incompetent just because I don't function too well past the prescribed working hours. 

Thing is this -- apart from having to keep my job, I have a kid to raise, a husband who needs and deserves love and also a home to maintain. I know I've got to juggle but what is there to juggle if I'm not actually given the opportunity to juggle anything since my hands are already full of one and the same thing (work).


Don't get me wrong, I really do not condone people using personal reasons/problems to wriggle their way out of their responsibilities at work because once we make the decision to work, we must learn to earn our keep. So my issue isn't at all about the work itself but rather the ridiculous fact that I have to justify (and feel guilty) going back home on time because it's considered as too early.

But how much longer does Luqman have to bear being the last to go home from school EVERYDAY.

How much longer can I bear sitting round being unproductive just to please the powers that be. 

What can I do to make people understand that the after hours don't mean a thing to me and that I'm not in this to compete with anybody's accumulated monthly overtime. 

Because honestly, there are wayy bigger priorities past 530 pm, such as this - 

Spot the star - he drew it on his own. And oh, did you know -- he's ambidextrous!

On that note, I really miss my old work station, which had plenty of natural light, far away from surveillance, where I did more work at my own pace and convenience (and got them done) with very minimal supervision. 

*Sigh*

June 19, 2015

it was all in my head.

 "Dimulakan dengan Bismillah, diakhiri dengan Alhamdulillah."
 -Raihan

 The above is so basic. But basic may not always come naturally to everyone.

In this time and age, I find that we are quick to critique and slow to thank.

And of course, I am no exception to this general rule.

But then again, it's not that I don't try to. It's just that on some days...

Some days, like the other day on 155/365, I lost it, just.like.that. At first, I was just fuming and babbling to myself, then, I went into full-on rage mode, yelling and scolding my son (the obvious victim) and while he cried his heart out for the the first 2 times I yelled at him, the third time it happened, he just stopped crying. He stopped responding to my yelling altogether and just looked up to me with eyes full of wonderment; most probably wondering what on earth did he do wrong this time.

Truth is, he did nothing wrong. He was just being his own clingy, manja self and all he wanted was his Mama. And I? I was just wondering why there seem to be no end to the string of things I had to do. I felt alone in a room full of people, I felt like I was alone in everything that I did. I felt like it was all on me, me and me. For no good reason, really.

After I realised what I did, I knelt down to his level, hugged him and apologised profusely for what I did.

And you know what he did?

He hugged me back, and said,

"It's okay, Mama. Jom semayang sama-sama?"

And laid his mini sejadah next to mine.

Next thing I know, I was crying. When we were done with our prayers, he sat on my lap and looked right into my eyes.

"Mama nangis ke?" he said while he wiped my tears.

"Mama tak sihat ke?" and he continued to hug me tight.

And he said all of this, in the pitch-darkness of the room.

All waterworks broke lose. 


At that time, I came to the realisation that all this while, I was never alone. Allah had sent me this little angel from heaven, put him in my womb so he could hear my heart beating from the inside, so that he would know what it feels like, even when he was on the outside--- looking in.

I was so busy getting things done, and being so obsessive about putting things in order, that I forgot to say my thanks, especially to Allah, for all the things I have been blessed with; for the roof on top of my head, for an amazing husband, for a wonderful child and an overall very blessed life, which many can only dream of ever having.

Thereafter, I tried my best to be grateful for all the little things, all the big things, all the right things, all the wrong things. And I tried my best not to bottle things up too much, too long. Because I now realise that it was all in my head. And what's in my head can really get to me, like it had previously gotten to me.

But like I said in my previous post, I am a work in progress. I guess to a certain extent we all are because though we sometimes think that we've got it all figured out, we really don't. Indeed, Allah is the turner of hearts. So we should never be so sure.

What we can be sure of is -

 that Allah promises, "Verily with hardship comes ease." (Quran, 94:5).

So, look for a good in every bad. And be thankful, no matter what the situation.

And most importantly, don't let your head, get to your head because get this -- life isn't perfect, for anyone.

"We say this life isn't perfect. And it isn't. It isn't perfectly good. But, it isn't perfectly bad, either... [..] I think the trap we fall into is rooted in the belief that this life can be perfect -- perfectly good or perfectly bad. However, that's not the nature of dunya (this life). That's the nature of the hereafter. The hereafter is saved for the perfection of things. Jannah (paradise) is perfectly and completely good. There is no bad in it. And Jahannam (hell - may Allah protect us) is perfectly and completely bad. There is no good in it." (Reclaim Your Heart, Yasmin Mogahed)



June 17, 2015

that time of year.

Bismillah

After almost a month of disconnect from this space, I am happy to report that I am almost whole again. Only almost, but Alhamdulillah, I am getting "there", wherever it is.

Just one more sleep 'til Ramadan comes (well, technically it starts after Maghrib tonight, I know) and the office is already buzzing with excitement for the arrival of the most-waited, most-anticipated, most-loved month of the Islamic Calendar. 

Makes me all warm and fuzzy inside, just thinking about the strange (but nice) tranquility that comes with the early mornings and late nights and everything else in between that makes it all the more special.

I am sorry to all my readers if I've disappointed or hurt or caused any harm through my posts whether intentionally or not and I hope that my sins to all of you will be forgiven (and hopefully forgotten). 

May this Ramadan be better than the best ones we've had so far, may we be steadfast in prayer and may we be given the chance and opportunity to make full use of all the blessings that this month brings.

Amin.

May 22, 2015

untuk apa (siapa), sebenarnya?

It's been a while.

Before I continue, I'm going to forewarn you that this post may make my previous post sound like a total fraud. But this is necessary because each time I think about writing about all things good, I always come back to this particular part of my life, wherein I feel like THIS; this indescribable emptiness despite the rainbows and butterflies in my life

And to be honest, I think it's contributed by my not feeling fulfilled at work, where I spend most of hours in a day.

xxx
 
When I was working with my former boss, I used to question her alot on the reasons behind the things she did, out of sheer curiousity. And most of the time, she would tell me that she does the things she does not just to please her superiors or bosses, but rather because that's just who she is.

She always told me that we've got to be proud of our work, no matter how little the work is; and that our work is a reflection of ourselves. It doesn't matter that our friends think our job scope is the least exciting out of all the fields of law or that we aren't real lawyers because we don't go to court. What's important is that WE do the best we can do with the work given and that WE KNOW we have given it our all.

And for a long, long while, it made sense. It made me work real hard. It made me exceed my own expectations. I was doing it for me and it felt good, no matter how much it seemed like I wasn't being recognised for all the things I did and that my disposition seem to have been misinterpreted (rather grossly if I may add) by those who didn't work with me.

It kept me going, even after I stopped working for my former boss.
 
xxx

 Until recently, something broke me. Or rather, something in me broke. 

I started asking questions which I never asked. I started counting hours which I never counted. I started wondering whether there was anything in all of this for me at all. I started wondering if any of all of this was worth it. I didn't know if all my efforts would be paid off, some day, some how.

And I hated myself for being so calculative. I hated myself for being so unlike me. 

xxx

I wish I could tell you that I'm now out of the dark, but sadly, I'm not. This is probably one of the longest periods of time I've been deflated and demotivated over things which are beyond my control (which I'd rather not elaborate) and I'm honestly trying to climb out of this hell hole so that I can say hi to the old Hanisa again.

And so that I could continue to blog about my everyday mishmash to my heart's content (hopefully this out of the blue post would start the ball rolling).

Until I pick up my broken pieces and fix myself up again, watch this space for me (I really do miss blogging). 





May 10, 2015

some kind of wonderful.

Five weeks after the Big Move, I have finally come to terms with the fact that the transition from one white empty space to the other wasn't ever going to be as smooth sailing as I initially thought it would be. Don't know why the "perfectionist" part of my brain tricked me into thinking that the whole move would be seamless, but I've had to wrestle with it a little to convince it that "otherwise" was just as okay. Hehe.

Now that we've gotten used to our new morning routines and the unpredictable traffic and our packing-unpacking-repeat activities are coming to an end (like, finally!), I can finally actually feel with all my heart how grateful I am for everything I have been blessed with so far.

It's some kind of surreal, if you ask me. And some kind of wonderful too.

 Alhamdulillah, Alhamdulillah for everything.

 


April 24, 2015

go like never before.

101/365 was a couple of weeks ago.

Apart from the Big Move, I have got to admit that it was THE most anticipated weekend of 2015 because it was the only weekend that we or rather I knew what I would be doing; running my first 11.2 km for the year. Wait, scratch that; running my first competitive run, ever.

We made a pact; we would all sleep, even if we didn't feel like sleeping. I had a run that night and my husband had a basketball game the following morning. After all the packing-unpacking-repeat episodes we've had for about 3 weeks prior to 101/365, SLEEP really was the one thing we were lacking. 

So, sleep we did. 

When I woke up, I took a bath, waited to perform my Maghrib prayers and got ready for the Run. 

And just. like. that. came the rain, complete with lightning and thunder and all. 

I kept asking my husband for his opinion on what I should do. I knew what I wanted but I couldn't do it without knowing what he wanted. So, he told me that he would rather if I didn't run. Not because it was raining, because that was pretty normal... but because there was lightning and thunder and all. He said he would rather if I didn't. And my heart dropped.

Thing is, he knew that despite all my previous doubts and anxiety, I really was looking forward to that particular weekend. So he sent me to the venue anyway and told me to promise not to run if things got real bad. And by the look of things, I knew that I wasn't going to run that night. 

I kept of scrolling through the Twitter and FB updates from the organisers and at some point, I was already queuing to get my goodie bag and medal... when the rain STOPPED. And they announced that the first flag off would be at 8.45 p.m.

I got out of queue and stepped behind the Start Line.


Alhamdulillah, even though I didn't go as fast as I could have, I managed to run 8.2 km without stopping (only because I got a stomachache at the last 3!!!) and somehow managed to sprint the last 200 metres to the Finish Line.

I proudly finished my "Quarter Marathon" in 1:43:45 (net time). 

And I think it's somewhat contributed by the words of wisdom I found at the very last minute when I was still doubting myself- forever asking if I could - 

"I'm a runner because I run. Not because I run fast. Not because I run far."


Of course, I'm also ever so grateful for 2 of my biggest cheerleaders for cheering me on.

Already registered for my next competitive run (TMFR), so yeah... bring it on!


April 17, 2015

at least we tried to have it all...

There's a Whatsapp group in which both my husband and I are participants. But the rest don't know that we're married. 

Just a couple of days back, as we were discussing some issues, I volunteered to take on a task, which the others seem uncomfortable/unsure of taking on. For that, I received multiple thank yous, including one from my own husband. After he expressed his gratification and offer to help, he gave me a wink (yes, the icon!). And I let out a giggle, like a little girl who had just been flirted with. 

All in the Whatsapp group which didn't know that we're husband and wife. 

The whole situation really is a funny situation, you know; people treating us like we're not married, like we're not even friends, like we're perfect strangers who are just helping each other for the common good. Maybe when the rest find out that we're really a couple (married some more), we're going to get it, but for now, we kind of think that this flirting in the group thing is cute. 

If you ask me, I do think that all this playfulness is actually pretty timely.   

Lately, we've gone through huge changes in our lives. Big move, bigger space, bigger expenses, less money, less time and the list goes on. With so many changes going on, you can imagine the toll it takes on an otherwise perfectly healthy relationship. And the amount of strength it takes to persevere and soldier on in all attempts to make things work. 

Speaking of which, we've also been talking about how couples (some of which are our own acquaintances) have gone back to each other after a huge fight (whether due to money, abuse or cheating, among others) and make things work. I don't care to find out for myself (harap simpang) but I'm too chicken to ask them because seriously, who does that... but I do honestly, genuinely wonder. My husband and I have theorised about the many reasons why people make or break in all our resolve to not fall into the same boat, but we've also concluded that nothing is certain. 

So, at every opportunity we get to lighten things up between us, we do. Even if it seems really silly or funny. Because in the event anything does go terribly wrong (I hope never), at least we'd know that we tried to have it all.

 


March 26, 2015

don't know if I (still) can.

I don't know why I thought I could in the very first place, but I at the time I signed up and paid RM60 to join the Shape Night Run, I knew that I could. I also thought that the renovation works would be over and done with by CNY and that we would now be staying at our New Place. But in reality, we're still tying up so many loose ends and have yet to pack a single thing in our current home. 

On top of that, Endomondo has been sending me motivational emails to encourage me to carry on with my training. Dalam bahasa kasarnya, it's telling me that it's time I get off my lazy butt. 

Thing is, I am far from lazy. I am just fatigued. To the core. And I swear I'm not even exaggerating the truth. I never understood why my mom used to feel so tired all the time when they were renovating the Bangi House but having gone through the experience of dealing with so many people and so many unmet timelines (yes, unfortunately), I totally get it now. I just don't feel like I'm up for anything. At all.

  I told this to my husband and told him of my intention to pull out from the Shape Night Run. So he told me to think of the many things I could have bought with the RM60 which I paid earlier and after spending so much money on the house, I for one, would really hate to waste that RM60. That, and the fact that I am not a quitter... so pulling out is so not me.

So, I went for my training last few days and it wasn't so bad--stamina-wise. The only thing bothering me right now is how badly my calves sting after I hit the 5 km mark and I need to go beyond the 5 km mark because... when I signed up earlier, I just had to challenge myself to join the 11.2 km since I thought of all the things I thought in first para above. 

I'll be needing loads of luck now. 

That, and a whole lot of training too. 

I really don't know if I still can. But I know that I should. Coz I'm a survivor, I'm going to make to it, I will survive, keep on surviving

#tibetibe


March 25, 2015

mamahood 101: mama, nak paluk?

My son, just like your children I am sure, is very is to please.

"Mama, nak paluk" seems to be his only request when I get home, before he goes to sleep, when he wakes up and just before we leave home for school. He loves those hugging sessions. It seems to be the remedy to everything. 

I know this because it seems to remedy me, too, but even so...

I never seem to be able to fulfill that simple request, at least not immediately. 

I'm always in the midst of getting something done. I'm always rushing to go somewhere. I'm always too tired or too busy. For a hug. Worst still, I get upset with him for getting upset with me when I refuse him his hug.

What kind of a parent I am, I really don't know.

Although I do try my very best to hug him whenever he wants to be hugged, even let him sit on my lap while I am doing the impossible; ironing work clothes(!!!), it still breaks my heart when I have to tell him... "Sekejap ye, sekejap ye, sekejap ye" multiple times before I can actually sit down with him. What's even more heartbreaking is when he actually understands... and waits outside the toilet door until I am done bathing, and gleefully asks me whether he can have his hug then...

"Mama dah mandi ke? Mama nak Allahuakbar (solat) ke?"

"Yes, Sayang"

"Okay"

And he continues waiting until I am done with everything before seating himself on my lap so that we could recite our doa together. 

There might will come a time, I am sure, when he would be too tired to wait around for me for a simple hug. When that time comes, I guess I'll just have to be prepared to tell myself,

"Serves you right."

 Though I hope with all my heart, that that will never happen and that he would one day understand how much I'm trying to cope with at the moment and how much I wished I could give him all the hugs in the world. 


surviving this last leg.

83/365.

These days, I have an incessant need to munch on something. Something sweet. All the time.

Oh, no, I'm not pregnant, so you can stop the speculating. 

According to my husband, who once attended this particular event which talked about what your cravings mean (I don't think that it was an event specifically for that reason, no. Just in case you're wondering), when you crave sweet things all the time, you are stressed. 

And based on that premise, it means that I am stressed out all the time. Because (under normal circumstances) I don't snack, I don't like to munch in between meals and I most certainly don't crave sweet things in the middle of the night. Only lately, I do.

But I'm smiling all the time, according to one of our staff members. She found it both amusing and amazing that I could, under this very stressful work environment, laugh it all out like nothing in the world bothered me. Thing is, do I have a choice?

Due to my crazy all the time cravings, I backtracked my movements and activities to the recent past weeks. Have I really been under too much pressure or am I aggravating my stress levels more by writing on my blog about a potentially non-existent pressure?

And the truth is that I think I've bitten off more than I can chew.

There's just way too many things on my plate right now and I don't know where to start.

I find myself wanting to be perfect, yet hating the very idea of the perfect person which other women advocate that other women should be. I find myself hating to eat out but also hating the thought of having to clean up after the meal. I find myself wanting a clean house but wanting nothing to do with the process of cleaning the house. We're at the last leg of renovations but I can't seem to muster the motivation needed to clean and pack our current house for the big move. And these conflicts really are just the tip of the iceberg. There's so much more tangled thoughts in my head, I don't even want to go there. 

I realise that whatever challenges it is that I am going through at the moment is for a better future, in sha Allah. But I've got to say that coming to terms with that fact is rather taxing. It's both funny and unnerving seeing myself like this especially since I self-declared myself to be the Energizer Bunny, who supposedly never runs out of batteries. 

When this phase this over (hopefully not long from now), I really do think I need a recharge, whatever form that may be in. 

But for now, I'm going to need all the luck and energy I can get to finish the last leg of this run.


March 16, 2015

Quiet.

"Now that you're an adult, you might still feel a pang of guilt when you decline a dinner invitation in favor of a good book. Or maybe you like to eat alone in restaurants without the pitying looks from fellow diners. Or you're told that you're "in your head too much", a phrase that's often deployed against the quiet and cerebral. 

Of course, there's another word for such people: thinkers."

- Susan Cain, Quiet

I chanced upon Quiet last Friday when I was out alone in my attempts to compose myself after a long, tiring week. It was the third book I picked up and read through and at the 3rd page, I was sold. But then I told myself that I needed more convincing because this was one of the more expensive books out of the 3, so I shouldn't be making an impulse buy. 

I reached the 7th page and saw the passage above. I was so amused at how well I was able to relate to it and decided that it.must.be.MINE

Haven't progressed that much from that page but only because I've been so busy! (told you that it'd be impossible to take a break in the midst of our impending move to our new home... but all is well, Alhamdulillah). Plus, I'm trying not to finish the book (and every other book I've been reading, really) by rushing through the passages just to prove that I can still speed-read a book; it's all about the details now and I quite like it that way. 

Anyway. The book suggested that I try broaching the subject of Quiet with a group of friends just to gauge their reaction. Since my colleagues and I seem to be suffering from a horrible bout of "Monday Blues", wherein we're almost literally sleepwalking through the day especially after that heavy lunch that we had together... I tried asking them what they thought of "time alone".

  Surprisingly (to me at least)... my colleagues, who are supposedly outgoing, outspoken, out of this world people who would go out of the way for everything lawyers echo Quiet. They are... technically, what this world of ours would call... introverts.

We don't mind shopping alone, eating alone, going out alone, being alone sometimes.... although technically that personalty trait just doesn't jive with being a lawyer by profession.

No wonder I get along so well with them! We're all weird lawyers!!! Hahahaha. 

Anyways, this post was just to say that I've actually started reading more since the past year although I alternate from one book from another, plus, for some books, I even write down notes (skema alert!!!). Haven't really had the time to review them all, but glad that I've somehow managed to squeeze in my once favourite pastime back into my life. 

Slowly but surely, in sha Allah! 

Now, I'm going to go and enjoy some Quiet


March 13, 2015

even heroes have the right to bleed.

72/365.

3 and a 1/2 months gone in a blink of an eye. 

Like all previous years, this first quarter too has been a rather hectic one as the workload began to re-pile onto my work station after everyone else returned from their long, long year-end break. 

Though that was pretty much expected, this week, for some reason, was just extra taxing.

So taxing that I actually (rather mysteriously) broke down into tears this morning when I heard the slightest tinge of a raised voice during a work discussion. Since when did I become so sensitive?

To avoid making an unnecessary scene, I excused myself as fast as I possibly could by giving some fumbled but rather credible excuse of wanting to do further research. But even as I was making that escape, tears were welling up in my eyes and before I could reach my "secure place" (I'll leave that to your imagination), the full-blown waterworks began.

After minutes of trying to calm myself down and failing miserably at stopping the waterworks, I SOS-ed "my person", all the while hoping that he'd be able to peel himself away from the meeting for just a little while because I really did need him at the time.

Sensing that something was amiss (we hardly ever communicate during office hours unless absolutely necessary), he temporarily left his meeting to tend his seething, crying wife, bless the man. 

I let it all out; tears and words all fumbled and muffled in between my sobs and frustration at everything that was making me mad. And as I anticipated, after all that was over, I was back to my old self again. 

Thank God that I was born with eyes that don't go puffy even after all that crying, so soon after, I was able to rejoin the discussion like nothing ever happened.

Everything turned out okay in the end. There were no more raised voices (or maybe the first time was really my imagination) and all works was done and submitted within the stipulated timeline. 

And though I don't normally go out for lunch, today I did. Alone. Didn't eat anything but instead bought myself some good coffee, a book and some apples to munch. 

Came back to the office much happier and calmer and also slightly amused at my own earlier silliness. 

But I guess even heroes have the right to bleed, ey?

Here's to hoping that this weekend would be a great time to catch on some sleep, though I doubt it since tomorrow morning's going to start with our contractors installing lights in our soon-to-be home! 

More on the new house when times are better in sha Allah, but for now,

WEEKEND IN 45 MINS FOR ME (In sha Allah), HURRAH!

March 08, 2015

mamahood 101: the first of many other firsts

Today, my son had his first haircut.

Having given birth to a boy who was born practically bald(-ish), I never saw the need to make make him even bald(er), while everyone carried on with the cukur jambul traditions. Even when his hair started growing out, I was always finding excuses not to chop any of it off. Because he has the most beautiful curls. (Yes, I'm naturally biased, guilty as charged.) 

But today, like I said earlier, my son had his first haircut.

It was inevitable.

His fringe was beginning to drive him nuts. And the rest of his curly locks, though not as thick as other kids' hair, was making him scratch like a monkey. 

Since we were at my parents' place and my mom has a good pair of hair-cutting scissors and he was ever willing to please her to win some points (which always ends up with him getting more toys, lucky US haha!), I made that call.

I took it better than I thought I would. Thought I would be bawling but I wasn't! Haha #dramasangat ! 

But be that as it may, I did take some of his cut hair as a momento of that event. 




I know that I'll eventually throw it out or stash it somewhere I will forget, but like my mom said, we (re: mothers) are all like that about our children. We don't know why we do the things we do, but we keep doing them anyway.
 
 Even if it seems real crazay! 

 If that ain't love then I don't know what love is, ey? 

Hehe. And for the record, my son actually looks just THE SAME! Thank god for curly hair genes! Heheh

 

Photo above is before his locks were chopped. Hehe

February 26, 2015

the household winner.

I try to cook on most days even if I get back home slightly late and even if cooking only means making the simplest dishes, bak kata orang; masak bodoh-bodoh aje. There's a mamak restaurant at my office but really, how long can you survive on mamak without getting bored, ey? I mean like, I can't even stand my own cooking, especially if I've been cooking every single day, so... yeah. 

So, since I like eating home-cooked meals (and so does everyone else at home), I'll normally have a game plan of some sort to make dinner preparation as stress-free as possible. And that means whipping up something that is filling, wholesome and yet easy to prepare such as -

ONE POT MEALS. 

Or more specifically, one post PASTAS.

At one point, I had to google one pot pasta recipes every single day because that was the only form of carb Luqman would take. After a while, my husband and I got really bored of pasta so we ate out so that Luqman could continue to have his pasta while we took a pasta break. 

Be that as it may, one pot pasta remains to be one of my favourite game plans, because it really is as easy as it sounds!

The base ingredients are the same; pasta (duh!), onion, garlic, olive oil, some vege, stock/sauce and protein of your choice and these ingredients are normally readily available in my kitchen.
 
Just 2 days ago, I got home a little late. It was pasar malam day but I really didn't have the mood to go through the whole cari parking, choose food and pay process, I just wanted to get home! So naturally, it turned out to be a one pot pasta day. 

My husband had his own plans that night so he didn't eat that much, leaving us with loads of leftover pasta. Coincidentally, overnight pasta is also a favourite in my household because seriously, it tastes so much better the next day! You should really try!

Last night, both of us had to work late. Of course that meant that there wouldn't be ample time to prepare an elaborate dinner. Luckily we still had the overnight pasta so I just had to buy some protein to add to whatever we had. 

When my husband finally got home, he saw the pasta and the ayam goreng and told me that he only wanted a little bit of pasta but wanted to ratah the ayam goreng. After years of knowing him, I knew better not to kecik hati with this because that only meant that the ayam goreng looked more appealing, no offense to my pasta. So, I obliged and prepared the necessary. 

While he was having dinner, I got other things done and when he was done, I was sooo bummed, I forgot all about the left overs, so I asked him about it. 

"SAYA HABISKAN SEMUA PASTA."
 (and it was ALOT okay!)

Turns out that the pasta was yummier than the store-bought ayam goreng. 

My pasta wins! Yeeehah! 

*flips tudung*

February 25, 2015

enjoying my own company (too much).

These past few weeks, I've been spending most of my lunch hours commuting to and from the office to our new place. Yes, just in case you are curious, the photo below shows 2 of my biggest achievements in life; a child and now a new place of our own. 

As with all new houses, there are tonnes of works to be done to make a house a home, hence the constant commute to make sure that things have progressed as per plan. 

Just before the CNY break, our contractors got all the wet works done, as promised. 

And then, after the CNY break, the other contractors came by to do some defects rectification works as we are still in the defects liability period of 6 months. 

Just now, I signed off a piece of paper saying that I am satisfied with the works done (for now at least) and now, all we have to do is wait for our furniture to arrive. 

Hence, the free lunch time. 

To be honest... I don't know what to do with all this time. 

At 1245 I sat down at my desk, just staring at the time, watching as the minutes went by, wondering if I should go out for an actual lunch; a luxury which I have dearly missed. 

But now that I actually have the time (and it's 2 minutes past 1300 at the time I'm writing this), I really don't know anymore if I actually miss that free time all that much...

More than anything, I'm so overwhelmed with the endless options of what could be done to fulfill this short hour, which is weird because I don't normally get sooo worked up about this hour since it's so short to begin with! 

Gah!

I'm so weird. We're all soo weird.

More than anything, although this isn't really news to anyone, I think, I think I'm beginning to enjoy my own company a little bit too much.

I should go out and bask in the sun. 

And just so you know, I don't know why I had to write all of that down.

It's been a while, hasn't it?


February 24, 2015

mamahood 101: the wrong crowd.

It was a normal school day and perhaps the only thing that happened differently that day was that I was the one who picked Luqman up. Normally, I wouldn't be so lucky to get off so early (guilty as charged). 

And like any normal day, I told Luqman to do his round of salam teacher, which he was really hesitant and rather bashful about but that was also pretty normal. 

What wasn't normal was when his teacher made a passing remark (not in verbatim) - 

"Eleh, malu-malu je lebih padahal samseng!"

And my.heart.dropped.

 Obviously, I wasn't very happy with her calling my son all kinds of names, after all, panggilan tu kan doa (?) but I figured that this wasn't the time for preaching, so instead, I probed further on what she meant. 

SO, she told me that Luqman has been getting into fights with one of his friends (?) once too often. It's like the both of them really hate each others' guts (not sure why) and they start fighting the moment they meet. She also told me that he's into the habit of squashing people on the floor (there's 5 of them including Luqman who lovee to do this) and also biting others with all his might.

This was news to me. Really. For a long while, I swear I felt sick to my stomach. I found all of this hard to digest because he is nothing like what his teacher tells me when he's at home and I know for a fact that he is not a habitual biter.

Though hard to believe, I also knew that the teacher had no reason or motive to tell tales of my sweet boy, so I thanked her for telling me and corrected her name-calling, just to set things straight. She got it and thereafter stopped.

I had a sleepless night. It was hard to believe that the boy I raised had turned out to be so... unlike how I raised him (?). I know that I have to get to the bottom of things but I just don't know how. It wasn't happening at home so there was nothing to immediately rectify when he was in my presence so I tried talking to him about things.

About how he was always fighting with that particular boy;
About who he was friends with;
About why he was biting people,

You know, things you normally talk about with your 3-year olds (not!).

I never expected that I would have to face these kind of problems so early in my mamahood and frankly, I don't know yet how on earth I am supposed to solve the problem.

So, if you have any idea or have faced the same problem, please do shed some light on this clueless mom!

Who knew that Taska too, has a "wrong crowd", right?

Sigh.

For now, I'm just pep-talking him and praying that this is all temporary.

*urut kepala*

February 18, 2015

with a big warm hug.

 49/365.

12.02.2015 was for me, a very special day for it was the day that I turned 30. 

I don't know why, but the rest of the world seemed so stressed out to be entering their thirties. And because that stress (for me at least) seems a little unwarranted, I tried my best not to jump onto that very stressful bandwagon. 

After all, growing older really is inevitable, isn't it?

On that day, I took a day off from work, like I always try to do every year. Only this year, I didn't have any "birthday plans", so to speak. 

That day wasn't about blowing candles off my cake or celebrating with a hundred balloons. Instead, it was spent embracing the growing up that had to come with that age. (But of course the mini celebration with the husband and little something something he got me was very much appreciated! Ehehehe) 

If I had to describe that day into a single word, it would be - "Apt".

xxx

Some time last year, I admit that I did wonder about what is expected out of a 30-year old; whether there are milestones that I needed to reach, or any achievements that I needed to unlock, a certain number of children that I should already have or a certain salary that I should be paid.

And honestly, it worried me if I wasn't thirty enough.

That was until I met some of my friends who have had the luxury of travelling the world, to whom I expressed my envy, only to be told how lucky I actually was to be coming back to a home, a husband and a cheeky baby every single day. Because for them, travelling was a way to fulfill the life they wished they had, which is mine.

It made me realise that success really is a matter of utmost subjectivity. There is no one definition that could rightly fit a 30-year old and everyone is measured on their own measuring scale and device of choice. 

If you're happy and you know it, that is all that really matters. 

xxx

And like I've said more times than I care to remember in my older posts, when I vowed to make my happiness my own responsibility, it took me to greater heights; higher than I've ever imagined. 

For that, Alhamdulillah.

I am now 30 and I'm welcoming it with a big warm hug. 


And Alhamdulillah, the unlocking of some personal achievements too.

February 06, 2015

IAMJANUARY


Like most women who can only dream of having long, uninterrupted, physical shopping trips, I enjoy online (window) shopping ALOT. When the going gets tough, I surf websites providing these services and dream of owning pieces I know I won't ever have the time or event to wear them to but put them in my "cart" anyway. Then, reality hits and I forget all about it... until... these online shops remind me that I have unpaid items in my cart, would you like to proceed with payment and own them pretty please (while they bat their virtual eyelashes at me).

AND I think, "Why not?" and make the necessary payment and wait at the door for my parcel to arrive because I don't want my husband to find out although there was once, when he got to the door first and then came knocking at the toilet door shortly after, asking me who Fashionvalet is. Well, in my defence I never thought they would deliver the parcel on New Year's Day, so... (changed my mailing and delivery address thereafter hehe)

Well, anyway, those are my shopping (mis)adventures.

One of the upsides of online shopping though, apart from not having to spend hours that I can't afford at the malls, are the discount codes that they dish out to their loyal customers. Even if  loyal only means that I keep browsing page after page after page, and keep putting things in my virtual cart only to forget/discard them later on. 

And just recently, Fashionvalet gave me the IAMJANUARY code. 

You all know I AM NOT A JANUARY PERSON, right? I mean like, just look at how my January turned out to be.

Nonetheless, even though they forgot that my birthday is in February, I appreciated the gesture and wondered what I should get my hands on. Read the fineprint many times to see if there were any product/brand exclusions and saw none, which I must say is apt, because we should be able to choose anything for our birthday right? 

And so, I locked my eyes on the dUckscarves, which seem to be all the rage. 

UNTIL,

they announced that they would be launching #sofina3 on 28 January 2015.

After they announced that they would be having a secret sale for members, I was excited because that only meant that the chances of me owning at least one Sofina was higher. 

Only... 

The red Sofina sold out in 3 minutes flat during the secret sale.

I managed to put the thing in my cart. And couldn't check out. By then, I had already anticipated that there wouldn't be any left for sale to non-members.

So I went to Sometime and signed up because I wanted to grab it at 11 a.m.. I had my heart set on the red one and that was the only one I wanted, nothing else. 

Told myself many times not to fall prey to "as long as I get myself a Sofina" trick but getting the red one was just SO hard. 

At 11 a.m. I was already on Sometime. 

Put the red bag in my cart and I COULDN'T FREAKING CHECKOUT because there were 3*** next to my product code. Since I am not familiar with Sometime, I really didn't know what that meant and tried and tried and tried again to no avail. Finally, I saw the fineprint which said that the product wasn't available in the quantity that I wanted or was sold out.

I went back to Sometime's main page and checked the other colours out... I was so tempted to put at least one bag in my cart, just one, but the colours just didn't scream, "I wana come home to you!". Eventually, after much deliberation, I decided not to make an impulse purchase and saw the other colours slowly, but surely fly off their virtual shelves. 

Coincidentally, 28 January 2015 was one of the worst days of January. THE WORST! 

It was so bad that I was crying on the phone while talking to almost anyone who would hear me cry. Even then, I didn't feel any better so I turned to Adik, who seems to have learned the art of saying everything while saying nothing.

While I was on the phone with her during lunch hour, I told her about my very bad day and told her that I so badly wanted the bag but it was just impossible to own the bag. Just to prove a point (not that Adik could see me through the phone), I went to Fashionvalet (for the umpteenth time that day!) to tell her that they didn't appear on the page anymore,

ONLY THEY DID!!!

I carefully picked the red Sofina and put it in my cart. I slowly keyed in IAMJANUARY code and held my breath, just in case it was rejected, but it went through so 25% was slashed off the original price! I proceeded to checkout, made my payments, checked my mailing address, twice (hehe) and all the while, I was on the phone with Adik telling her that she should get one too (she didn't!). 

Fast forward 2 days later, which is exactly a week ago, it arrived in my office.

I WAS SO STOKED, I LITERALLY JUMPED FROM MY SEAT! 

And so far, I am very happy that I jumped on the Sofina bandwagon. It has an amazing make and seriously sturdier than I thought it would be. Adik agrees that it even smells like real leather (saw her secretly stroking and smelling it when I was back in TTDI the other day ehehe).

And to Fashionvalet, I wouldn't mind getting an IAMFEBRUARY discount code in my mail, either. 

Hehe. 


#justtryingmyluck
#dahbagibetisnakpeha