Jun 19
Jun 19
Work affords me a tiny bit of free time and I made my way home early with Dad tonight. I was due to meet a friend at the nearby Starbucks at 7.30, so I hurried home and changed. As usual, there were no parking, so I skipped out of the car and went upstairs.
We met up at the mall and had a coffee, chatting until it was quite clear that the staff wanted us to clear off. To get home, I decided to go take the bus.
When I got to the station, it said “Service Terminé” so I started the small trek home. The rain started to fall lightly on my head, tiny droplets of cool water, evacuating the cloying heat.
Then a bus passed me. Murphy’s fragging Law.
Must be my luck playing up again. My mood, which had clung on for dear life, desintegrated into a cloud of dark brooding as I walked home. It was hot, in fact almost as hot as Jakarta had felt but with the difference that I was able to wear my light jacket without dying.
Most of the time, I feel like a blimp but tonight, I felt as if I was definitely going to die. My entire body has swelled up due to the heat, even my feet, which makes walking in my heels quite difficult. Or even in my non-Repetto flats.
For some reason, I have been retaining water like it’s going out of style. By the time I got home, I was in a sweat and had to take off my jacket. That might have been a mistake but how else do you wear low-rise jeans without displaying your gut to the world?
Sitting in the appartment, cooled off, I watched the rainstorm with a dismal mood. If only the unrelenting water could just strip away the fat and flesh, leaving nothing but the soul within.
It seems that the weather mirrors my moods, sunny until the storm clouds gather and break. Something has upset my weather and there’s no fixing it until the summer is over.
All I can do is clutch the restraint bar and survive the inevitable insomnia that tears at my mind constantly.
Anorak fact: Rollercoasters go faster under the rain. Mental ones too.
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