I cannot get to sleep. My head is running in circles after a restless week.
I was glad to catch up with old pals and drink ourselves to oblivion on Thursday, but that careless behavior led me on a stressful weekend experience.
Nonetheless, fairies blessed my Sunday.
Aidan and I gave Gizmo a bath out on the veranda, played with the neighbor's kids and celebrated Singapore's National Day by doing what we love doing... spending time with each other.
By the time we realized it was only an hour before the fireworks were set to go off,
we speedily got ourselves dolled up (in red & white, of course) and jumped into the car, expecting bad traffic and absolutely no way of getting parking, or getting to where we needed to on time.
Miraculously, the drive in was smooth and we passed the parade on the ECP about 8pm.
We decided to exit off Prince Edward and as we drove along Robinson Road, we could see herds of people fill the streets and pavements, all hovering, staring at the night sky, waiting to witness the 44th NDP fireworks.
Traffic was slow but moving. And after only 10 minutes, we were turning into the Fullerton Hotel car park, racing to find a space so we could make the 'performance' in time.
I kid you not... but as we emerged from the lifts, onto One Fullerton's waterfront ... the magic began.
Aidan stood behind me, wrapping me in his arms, and we both stared up at the sparkling, blazing sky watching the myriad of colors burst all over the black of night.
Witnessing our first fireworks show together, excluding the magical one only He and I shared the first time he kissed me.
When it was over, we joined our friends for dinner and drinks at Overeasy and feasted our nation's independence.
Some of my girlfriends who had been to the National Day Parade, arrived with goodies bags filled with fun props and memorabilia, gushed with stories about Ivan Heng's direction for the parade and how patriotic and heart-warming it all was.
We didn't have a late one as we were both tired and I was still not feeling a 100%.
Mondays have always been challenging for me.
And I know people may agree that nobody likes Mondays but personally, I think it's because I have sub consciously been a Sunday addict. It doesn't even make sense.
As far as I can remember, in my line of work, a normal work week is never defined by weekdays and weekends.
We work when there are jobs, whatever occasion or public holiday and for however long the project requires and on the flip side, there are times we don't work for weeks... if the season says so. Or no, to be more accurate.
So I'm not even sure where I developed this dependency for Lazy Sundays and a rebellion for Manic Mondays. As far as time is concerned, it's either a 'work day' or not.
I refuse to believe the answer lies in my childhood cathechism classes and the teachings of Sabbath day yet I cannot help but feel the reasoning reflects my need to feel 'normal'.
To develop some kind of routine for myself.
So I can find my own cycle.
And so I sit here, on a Tuesday morning, after a lousy Monday, unable to fall asleep.
Wondering if I can pull my plans together and thrive through my week ahead and be as productive as I can be, according to my schedule, come morning.
