Stay-home Thursdays

Waking up to the familiar clacks of her sister's heels before leaving for the office, she lazed in bed and wondered why the thunder when the sky wasn't that grey. Is the thunder god in a bad mood too or is the air just dry? Quickly, she dismissed the latter because it was unthinkable for the air in humid Singapore to be dry.

Breakfast was an unappealing hot dog bun with her usual coffee. The moment she finished the last bit of her coffee, inertia set in. The news was on the telly and she was appalled to learn about the latest starvation problem in North Korea and the ludicrousness of the newly proposed Sino-Singapore eco-city in Tianjin, not to mention also being utterly disgusted by the child abuse scandals (and the US$2 billion settlement payouts) plaguing American Catholic churches. It was then she had a sudden bout of energy surge the first time that morning to do something constructive.

She thought of the most brilliant idea - to change all the sheets in the house. So, she dug deep into the wardrobe and took out her favourite cotton-sateen sheets from Hong Kong. It was a heavy affair, literally, and she wondered if mattresses do gain mass over the years (because of the perspiration). Blasting U2, a CD she'd borrowed from her best friend which she had no intention of returning, on the player, she swayed to the music through the tedious task and suddenly caught her dad's bemused face. No, I'm not on drugs, she mouthed. Appeased, he left her alone.

Totally wiped out after the third bed, she was secretly thankful that her mum beat her to changing the sheets in the master bedroom that morning. That, and sending her to college; she might just as well be the friendly chambermaid at The Four Seasons for all she knows now.

She hadn't realised she'd taken a really long time as it was soon lunch time. Devouring the oily fried noodles in just 10 minutes, she made a mental note to tell her dad she doesn't exactly fancy fried noodles as much as her sister, after which was indefinite telly time.

Feeling wasted, she then reached out for the Chinese tabloid. Within the next minute, she gave up trying to read the multitude of Chinese words and wondered if she'd been missing out on interesting news (read: gossip) for she'd witnessed her parents spending hours on these papers everyday.

With 2 more hours before dinner, she found herself sitting in front of her overcrowded wardrobe and wondered how one could possess so much clothes and yet lament there's nothing to wear. Unfazed, she decided to organise her wardrobe for the millionth time this month.

And as she lay in bed before the last meal of the day, she wondered if the guy on the fourth floor had moved out, for the familiar cigarette smoke had been absent all day.

Ahhhh...stay-home Thursdays are warpedly delightful, she concluded.