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). 

♥

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.

 

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!

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.

 

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

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.

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. 

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!

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

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*