I was so stressed that even after booking in last night, I went for the longest jog around the neighbourhood. It was good, my worries kept pushing me further.
This week is really filled with numerous ups and downs. I got news of my amazingly high peer appraisal score, which really blasted me off the face of the Earth. (Sia la!) Then I became the Platoon Sergeant of Platoon 2. Then I was selected to represent the school for the Army Half Marathon. Then I got my SIA Final interview notice. WoW!
There cannot be a week with so many good news just popping out like that! Just can't! Light ripple formations on the surface of a pond on a rainy day - radiating out, infecting, affecting and cleansing. "Doot, doot", serene and still, not to be undermined. Yet there couldn't have been so much demoralising poop on the exact same week, that falls into the pond, spoosh, splash, affecting more than infecting, rocks cascading within. Army does this to you, so funny yet true. Giving you a pat, then giving you a slap.
I kena 01 x jialat jialat, because I reported my platoon strength haphazardly. That moment I still remember. Sir with his questioning look, the entire wing quizzical and unimpressed, anticipating what I would say in defence of my mistake. "It was my fault, Sir." "Of course, it's your fault!" Just screwed up big time, I told myself. Then I really failed as a Platoon Sergeant, because I find myself losing grip of the control, the respect and the favour of my men. A shout or command in the long corridor resonates but never seeps in, feels like a ball thrown out which then bounces off the wall and hits you back. Wing Commander actually summoned me to his office to talk. I don't think it was humiliating, but I think it spoke volumes about my abilities. WE COME FROM OCS, WE ARE THE VERY BEST, LEADING WITH DIGNITY AND PRIDE.
My maid has fled. She returned to Indonesia, but never returned. Not a call or a single piece of news. When I tried calling, there was an inexplicably surprised tone of a man on the other side, speaking a language I couldn't understand. In the background I could hear her voice, Aunty Henni's voice, uncharacteristically frantic, hushed and helpless. She never comes to the line. I think it is irresponsible an act, leaving us, a family in doubt and uncertainty. Whatever the case, she is someone I would remember, someone who took care of the family so well she deserved much more than she's paid, someone who worked without a single complaint. Maybe in another place in the world, she has her own untold problems, one of those domestic troubles that never gets out of the bag, or some maternal obligations that have proven strong enough for her to not return.
Hai, whatever the case, LIFE still goes on. Writing has made me feel better. Ok, case closed. Time to hang out, like monkeys in town, swinging from tree to tree, GOING WILD! Raw is War, and War is Raw!!!!