Baa baa black sheep.
My mother is singing songs and reciting nursery rhymes – ones that I have not heard for quite some time now.
Her only target audience is the little one. Her grandson somehow finds it interesting enough to follow her moves – Ian’s hands imitate the twinkling of stars, up above the sky so hiiiiiiiigh, or so it seems.
As for me, well… let me just say that it would probably have been more bearable had she not choose to repeat the song for another seven times. Yes, yes, I can be evil whenever I want to.
Besides, we have just bought a new DVD player. I knew there would be hazardous times ahead when she wanted to get one with a karaoke function.
Thankfully, we do not have a microphone, yet.
Just when you thought things are beginning to look up…
I now sort of dread going to work, out of fear of making more mistakes. Do not get me wrong – I am fine with what I do now. It is just that, well… how do I explain the horrible feeling I get in my stomach whenever a small, red envelope icon on the taskbar blinks incessantly, indicating the arrival of new emails?
Heck, it seems that I am even afraid to open up my inbox. I keep expecting to receive emails with headers that might just spell the end of my days at this relatively new workplace, catapulting me into the position of an ex-employee, god forbid.
It hardly helps when a colleague seated next to you tells everyone within earshot of his intentions to leave the company, and how a certain online recruitment agency is doing him all sorts of favours.
People here seem to expect you to already know everything – when in actual fact, the real training had only just begun.