Festivity is not frivolous!

This is exceedingly random, but did you know that the orange is actually a hybrid between a pomelo and a mandarin??

I was shocked.

Why would anyone want to bring two perfectly perfect fruits together to make one fruit that can’t be peeled without a knife and is therefore less perfect?

If it ain’t broke don’t fix it, my brain snorted.

(But then again, an orange does have more vitamin C than a mandarin, so… maybe there was a point to it after all.)

I love mandarins btw. Don’t mess with my mandarins.

Right, so.

With the amount of Mariah Carey that’s been on rotation on Spotify, I think it’s pretty damn clear that IT’S FINALLY CHRISTMAS SEASON AGAIN!!! Hallelujah!

Even though my bank account rarely makes it out of this month alive, I frikking love Christmas! Despite the crap weather, there is just a feeling of festivity that hangs in the air y’know? Umbrella destroyed by the wind? Hey it’ll be sunny soon! Shoes soaked from the thunderstorm? No problem, gonna get that new pair of supergas anyway!!

no what do you mean I am being frivolous, it’s Christmas time dammit take that back

Anyway, with the advent of Christmas, I had (and am still going to have) a crazy line up of events and things all week, so much so that I hadn’t even had much time to breathe. But it wasn’t until, after multiple failed attempts to meet up, one of my girlfriends offhandedly remarked,

You’re super busy, Cheryl!

That it struck me that that was exactly my situation. Somehow, somewhere along the way, while I was picking up 1,001 things to do and accomplish, my schedule has become so bloated so quietly that I didn’t even realize it. I oftentimes mope about how bored I am, but I never actually stopped to assess how much I have going on, and how much I have not appreciated it all.

What was it they often quipped? Stop to smell the roses?

It seems I have been frolicking in a flower field.

How different my year-end has been, in comparison to the start of the year.

Here’s giving myself a pat on the back – for once – because good job Cheryl.

I am proud of you.

Also yes, this post is quite randomly structured – but hey, you should’ve known what you were getting yourself into when you started reading about the angst I felt for the origin of the orange.

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When it rains

늦은 오후에 비가 왔어요.

비가 올 때, 난 항상 많이 생각해요. 슬프니까 나에게 말해…

“어디 아파? …행복 할 수 없어요…?”

근데, 때로 이유가 없어요. 그렇지 않아?

아ㅏㅏㅏ

정말 자야 해~

Ode to a November

Sometimes, when I’m going about my day minding my own business, a random word will suddenly hit me like a rock to the head.

Anybody else get that? Just me?

Today, as I sat down at my desk, a single word jolted my brain:

Insipid.

A poignant summary of my nowadays, almost.

Days upon days of repeated routes and repeated routines. Is this all there is to this life? Or is there something I’m not quite getting right? It feels like I’m in a rat race, but one where the only contestant is myself and I somehow end up chasing after my own tail. In fact, I sometimes ponder over this so much I feel like I could almost get depression from it (is this what a quarter-life crisis feels like? I need to level up from age 25 asap).

But then again, perhaps the expectations I harbour are a little too high and the standards I try to hold myself to are a bit too much. Nobody said it’s bad to have goals – it’s just really, really, really bad for your skin and hair and overall well-being when you start to view them as the yardsticks of your happiness.

Also my lack of patience is probably another factor responsible for all this self-inflicted stress. When I want something, I want it now – and though it may manifest occasionally as a source of motivation, it really is just a double-edged sword at the end of the day.

My secondary school literature teacher once tried to impart upon a bunch of rowdy fifteen year olds the importance of delayed gratification; that is to resist the temptations of an immediate pleasure in preference for a later (and probably longer-lasting) reward. A decade later and it seems this is still something I have yet to fully grasp. Forbearance, unfortunately, was never really my strong suit.

But it is what it is, and while the chilly rains of November have already begun to descend upon us, perhaps the kindest thing I can do for myself is to remember that it isn’t about how anaemic the days feel, but rather that no matter how anaemic the days may be, they will invariably, unfailingly carry on. And so instead of fighting the tides, I would do better exercising a little more endurance, letting the waves of time wash over me and seizing with outstretched hands all the little sparks of joy, happiness and (inevitable) melancholy to be cherished in the many quarters of life ahead.