The gods were angry tonight. There was a formidable downpour at 6:20 pm, just as my train pulled into my stop, and my pants and shoes were soaked by the time I got home, even though I ducked under shelter most of the way. The rain is about the only good meterological factor about living in the tropics: because it's hot so much, you really appreciate it when it's cool and wet. Some days, I don't even mind walking in the rain. Today, however, I was content to hide under my diminutive umbrella and hope for the best.

I woke up this morning very much not wanting to go to work because I had so much to do. Nevertheless, despite the odd burp in work from unanticipated callers --- including someone trying to con me into a 'free' holiday --- I got things done quick enough that I could waltz out of the office at 5:30 pm and make it home before sundown (the rain notwithstanding). We also had an early dinner at the coffeeshop downstairs, so by the time we got home and lolled on the couch in front of the TV, it wasn't even seven pm yet.

Today was also quiet because one of the Assistant Directors in my department is on medical leave --- she sprained her ankle. While I sympathise with her pain and lack of mobility, the good thing about her not being at work is that things are quietish. Tomorrow is a glorious day of meetings --- though I have only two while my colleague has three, running practically nonstop from 9:30 am till the late afternoon --- and I don't imagine I'll do much beyond the immediately necessary.

Last night's dinner was quite splendid, even though it was just satay and some add-ons. My uncle and aunt had prepared some fishcake, toufu and cucumbers, as well as green bean soup for dessert, and my mom made garlic bread. While garlic bread and satay aren't typically table-fellows at any fine dining establishment, it was good enough for us last night. Oh, and there was sake too. There would've been wine too, but by the time my parents remembered they'd brought a botttle, our meal was too wound down and our stomachs too sated for it. Dinner conversation ranged from parental and avuncular reminiscences about life in Singapore in the 1950s and '60s, to advice on planning a wedding for the cousin and his girlfriend. Needless to say, the former was far more amusing and far less embarrassing. We also learned that the younger cousin (not the affianced one) was starting work the next day (i.e. today) at a hospital near where I work. My first question, naturally, was, "So can you sign off on MCs yet?" Alas, the answer was not yet.

Time for Angel! My sad devotion to our television continues. Bon soir!


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