read m. atwood's 'the blind assasin' last night and it really is quite good. like when phrases of succint honesty hits you like a smack and a poke all at once.

"All she has left is the picture. Also the story of it. The picture is of happiness, the story not. Happiness is a garden walled with glass: there's no way in or out. In Paradise there are no stories, because there are no journeys. It's loss and regret and misery and yearning that drive the story forward, along it's twisted road."

~ from The Blind Assassin, by Margaret Atwood

while i was writing in my diary, sprawled on my bed in dim light ma came in and gathered me in her arms and reminded me to be focused on my work and that i am wonderful and blessed and not to pick up that procrastinating and distracted bug that came from her. so cute. motivation for the week.

lunch seemed more plentiful than usual and more fun of course when we ordered several small dishes instead of two big ones - seafood sheng mian, char siew sou, drunken chicken wing, watercress and lean meat soup and char siew chee cheong fan. hours fly by like seconds and soon you were dropping me off at the library. i headed off to the bro's bachelor pad and snuggled in and slept with da jie and hui on the bed while the bro was mugging till siew jie came along and we went downstairs to have dinner with auntie pat and family. auntie pat produced a minute ice box of potong ice cream at the end of dinner. so cute.

so anyways i managed three short runs the past week which were unsatisfying during the do but appreciated on hindsight - energy came back - so this week i promise myself longer runs and more focused work-doing.

what a mundane post. but hushed affections for all mentioned