A piece of me

While driving to work this morning, I saw a small old lady. She was walking by the road side - this being Malaysia, there were no proper sidewalk. She was wearing a "batik" sarong, "baju kurung kedah" (traditional Malay blouse), and a headscarf. Even though the hot sun was not out yet, her sun-browned crinkled skin foretold the years she had lived under typical Malaysian hot sun. In her right hand, she carried a red plastic bag that seemed to be a little heavy for a old grandma to carry. My conscience told me to stop my car, and gave her a lift. But at the back of my head, I heard this nagging, "I'm running late. I need to get to the office, fast!". And so I drove passed her. As I drove, some how I felt as if I lost a little piece of me.

On another unrelated note, yesterday I was rushing for a meeting in K.L. when a team member telephoned. He needed my signature on some documents. We agreed to meet halfway. He was already there when I reached our rendezvous point. I was standing at the guard house, and he was across the yard. I had less than an hour to make the 1-hour drive to my meeting (am I making any sense?). I was irked to my bones when I saw how sloth-like he walked from across the yard. I rose my voice and gave him a piece of my mind from across the yard!

As people said, when stress, go out and shop. Not known to be shopaholic, today I tried it anyway. And guess what, of all the things that I could buy (actually, I almost bought a RM1200-leather-recliner), I bought a Malaysian cook book, "Malaysian Food" by Norman Musa. Not because I'm into cooking, but because there were lots of interesting photos in the book. Unlike typical Malaysian cook books that only have photos of the finished dishes, this book included the photos of people and things you bumped into when you shop in a typical Malaysian market. The author put personal stories that compliment the photos. Looking through the book, I felt like I was rejuvenating a piece of me that seem to fade away.

Perhaps all these are signs that I should change job; before the job took away all the pieces that make me, me!

Aging

I know, it has been ages since my last entry in this blog. And yes, I know, I still haven't finish the New Zealand entries, which is now becoming a more distance and foggy memory. When ever I do have time to sit in front of the computer for other things than work, I can't seem to weave the letters in words, words into sentences and sentences into stories (just a fancier way of admitting I'm having writers' block). Our ever increasing age doesn't help much in the memory department either.

Speaking of age and aging, I had an intimate dinner with a bunch of close friends. We try to do it every now and then to catch up on each other. It was my first time dining in the TR outlet. I've heard so much about it. Unfortunately, the food wasn't as good as I expected. If it wasn't for the great company, I might not have enjoyed my dinner as much as I did.

Anyway, we were chatting away when to topic of age and aging came up. Yours truly, had recently turned *ehem* 25. Friends around the table would soon follow suit. Then someone mentioned and pondered whether he / she had done what ever he / she set out to do before reaching a certain age. While most still have thing yet to be accomplished (which included ending the single-dom era), I've ticked most items in my "life's to do list". Interestingly, "get married" was never on my list.

Fully aware that I fall under "at risk group", I'm just glad I made it to my *ehem* 25th birthday.

(p.s. A few family friends, and family members had passed on since 1st January 2010. The most recent was last week. And today, a staff of the company I worked with, passed away in one of the building in my area. I've just got back from the hospital. I've never met him. But in time of need, we banded together to lend a hand. Condolence to his family.)