Honestly, second week is barely over and half of us are plagued with diseases. Classes are beginning to become hosts to a series of symphonies of coughs and sneezes. God, even I sound like my viola, with a sandy touch, thanks to my inexplicable sore throat. Ugh.
Thus, the lot of us (me, Wen Dee, Song Lin, Eunice, Wai Kit, Jia Wen, Rachel, Kevin, Carmen, Audrey, Zi Ming, David Chiok and Rou Yen) decided to go on an impromptu trip after choir to some stall by the roadside for some nutritious Tong Sui.
I was kind of abducted there, after standing and staring blankly while the meter in my mind fluctuated wildly and struggled to settle on either joining them for Sugar Water or ditching the whole bunch for Buddhist talk. I was shoved into the car before the point could swing close to any one of the two. Fine. I lied. I really intended to head straight to the talk but the scene of a merry crowd of 4 cars buzzing to go for a drink swayed me. Shhh. He’ll kill me if he finds out (I’m crossing my fingers he wouldn’t read this post).
Ended up walloping a bowl of thick, steaming peanut soup instead. Oooh la la. There, a solid argument against my guilty conscious of choosing sinful indulgence over religious teachings. At least for the first hour and a half.
Arrived at the classroom at 9pm, out of breath and weary from lugging my viola and an unnecessarily heavy metal water tumbler, with an overweight bag slung across me and a book made up of half a ton of paper AND racing around the ground floor of Block C to locate it.
Was greeted with feigned-disappointed look and a shake of the head from Wei Kit. So much for a welcome.
Slumped on my chair like a rag doll for the rest of the talk, which dragged to 10pm. I gave up warring with my guilty conscious and attempted to concentrate on what the person was saying, while fastidiously ignoring my itchy throat.
Guess who was forced to introduce herself to the mass audience? Ugh.
All I had in my head was sleep and recharging my batteries for tomorrow’s classes when Wei Kit asked if I had my dinner. I was suddenly aware of my skipped meal. Screw the peanut soup, that was liquid.
I was seriously fine with missing dinner once in a while, but he was like, “I can teman you makan.”
Cool. Makan it was, then.
I had vegetarian spring rolls. YES I KNEW THEY WERE FRIED AND THEY WOULD JUST SORE MY THROAT but there was nothing much left on the menu. He suggested Ala Carte dishes. Ugh. At 10pm?! He didn’t find that an issue somehow. He thought it could help train my metabolism (?!) Male species.
Sat and chatted there till the waiter had to shoo us out. Whoa, a record. Had never been asked to leave a restaurant before, albeit in a polite way. Was walked back to the hostel by his friend who passed by Samosa then joined us for the last 15 minutes.
Damn, I feel highly giggling-prone now. Must be that hot chocolate drink.
P.S. So so sorry, Brother, for not calling you to cancel the practice! I promise I’ll practice with you as long as you want to next Monday to make up for it!
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