Angels and Demons

It's been another one of those weeks. I was late on Wednesday, second time this month. Thanks to the month-long of waking up for footie matches, I woke up suddenly at 4 am. And I couldn't for the life of me get sleep to overtake me. So, Finally I got up, turned on the light and read Dan Brown's Angels and Demons that I borrowed from my mate. And you'd think since I got up so early I'd be early to work. But no. Missed the bus and waited ages for the next one. Tried to hail cabs but none stopped by. What a bruise to my ego! I couldn't even hail a cab successfully!

I was in one of my moods so I went out during lunch to clear my mind. Didn't help any, I got bored soon enough and left the store for another. That's when I sighted a tee at this apparel store with these wordings: You have to kiss many frogs before you get the prince. I thought, Oh Boy, how true.

Questions: Have I been kissing any frogs so far? Will I ever find the prince? If yes, how do I know he's the prince and not the frog? How much longer do I have to kiss frogs?

My boss asked me to join her in meeting later that afternoon. Bladder-weak me was about to go to the bathroom but thought, heck, it may be only 10 minutes tops. And I couldn't let my boss wait now, could I. But Boy, was I wrong about it being a sweet, short discussion. What a fix I let myself into! After 15 minutes, I could neither concentrate fully nor contribute effectively. How could I when all the while, I was like urging them to come on come on, can I go now, please. I was crossing my legs and re-crossing them. And moment of relief only came abt an hour later...! Oh Boy.

I couldn't wait til the time came for me to ask my mate, 'So shall we go for that ride into the sunset now?'.

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I was in discussion with my colleague Yesterday and because I didn't want to be disturbed, I took my office phone off from its hook. And lo and behold, suddenly my cell phone rang. It was my ex-school mate. We exchanged the usual how are yous. Now, I haven't heard from her in ages and certainly didn't appreciate it when she started probing into my life. On my marital status. On what I've been doing to change it. I listened in growing horror, dismay and dread as she started detailing all that she had done, all the tribulations that she had endured before she met her man, the Umrah trip, the prayers she made there etc etc etc. And she knew very well that I've been to the Holy Land too but still needed to ask as if to confirm. After a while, I attempted to silence her up and said, 'Yeah, well, I did Pray when I was there too,' but she continued as if she didn't hear me at all.

Then she started asking whether I was still staying with my parents. When I said no, she started asking where I was staying, when I was planning to invite her over etc etc. When I told her about my neighbourhood, she got very interested and pressed me a few times on the market value of properties in that area. I was ready to shout at her and slam the phone down but I didn't. Instead I said I didn't know, because the truth was, I really didn't know and I really didn't care.

When the painful conversation was Finally over, I wailed, 'I hate it, I hate it, I hate it, I hate it when people make these calls and try to make me feel Bad,' not realising I've moaned them out loud. My colleagues turned and asked me what the matter was and I repeated myself. Gosh, I really hate it when people think they have a right to tell you what you should do with your life; pretend to sympathise with what you're apparently lacking (excuse me, but I don't think I'm lacking or any less a girl just because I'm still single); I hate it when people try to make me feel inadequate; I hate it when people I've not spoken to in months think they have a right to preach and push forward their suggested ideas to me on how I could make it work [OK, I'm happy you've found your man - and I suppose happiness - but really, happiness is not dependent on another person! And just because it worked out successfully on you doesn't mean it'd work on another]; and I especially hate the insinuation that when I was at the Holy Land, I didn't make full use of my time there and Pray to God. Not that I have to explain myself to anyone, but I did Pray of course and not just for myself and not only on my marital status.

And I hate it when people start asking me money or money-related questions. That is just plain rude. Uncouth. Unrefined.

It's really 'amazing' (for lack of a better word) how much a phone call can make me feel so angry and riled. And I was. Incensed. Hopping mad. Enraged.

How dare she tried to make me feel inadequate? If she was tring to make me feel miserable, I'm sorry she hadn't succeeded. If anyone cares for me, then he/she should be making prayers for me for my happiness instead of giving me his/her proven success story. Well, I'm happy it worked out fine for you. Just don't push it into my face 'cause I sure as hell don't appreciate it. And no, I hardly envy you. You've only managed to make me angry because you have no right to force your thinking and meddle with my life and part with your ideas.

Do you now wonder why I just don't call certain people and not miss them? And why I don't invite them over or ask to meet up?

Thank God it's Friday today and weekend is starting soon. It couldn't come soon enough for me. A lot more demons than Angels in my life this week.