SLEEPYHEAD

Last night, I did some assignments until 2am plus. Was so tired that the eyebags were freaking huge, the eyeballs nearly popped out, and the eyelids could hardly open. Plonked onto bed and was in dreamland within minutes. Mondays and Tuesdays are killers.

I woke up this morning, feeling like a million dollars in Rupiah currency. I peered at the mobile phone and groaned. It's already 7.15am. This is the first time ever since training started that I oversleep! For once, I allowed myself to fall hook, line, and sinker. Oh, the feeling! I really miss being a student! Back in university days, in situations such as this, I would just give lesson a miss. Now? It's either a medical certificate, or a warning letter + pay cut. Grrr!

I burrowed deeper into the sheets, foolishly wishing that I am running a fever (on second thoughts, I take back my words). At the very least, I would be granted an MC and get a day off from school. I sighed deeply and got out of bed. This feels like crucifying the flesh. I changed into a new pair of jeans. Opened the closet. The brain refused to decide on what T-shirt to wear. Glanced at the bed. And plonked back right down. The bed and pillow and bolster are all so comfy and fluffy. It has a magical, seductive, pulling effect. Me? I'm like a drunkard being led by the nose. Hopeless. Utterly hopeless.

I'm generally a light sleeper. While the mental aspect is not a problem, the physical aspect is a totally different matter. While consciousness normally drift back swiftly, extracting the body from the springy bed is always anything but easy. KelL knows it all too well; he has enough first-hand experience to occasionally give me a 2nd wake-up call when he has been tasked to give me the first one. Once is not always enough, yeah.

I lazed in bed until 7.30am. Enough is enough. Anymore and I'll be a goner. I quickly donned a shirt, packed my stuffs, brushed my teeth. This is bad; taking a cab all the way to Boon Lay would cost a bomb. At times like this, it's always Daddy to the rescue. Fathers are heroic!

Pounced into the room and woke him up. Thank goodness it's school holidays. I shook him lightly by the shoulders and asked sheepishly, "Pa... Can drive me to campus?" Like a jack-in-a-box, he sprung up (really, he did) and changed into a button-down shirt. Within 10minutes, we were out of the flat. Dad is always - and simply - amazing. He has the patience of a saint. If someone wakes me up like that, I wound most probably grumble and whine and grumble and whine somemore. Not forgetting, this is already not the first time in a week. It was only on Saturday afternoon when I pulled the same fast one; I was running behind time and - irritatingly - all the cabs were fully booked. He ended up driving me to Doro's house.

I reached school at 8.20am; just right in time for the 8.30am lecture. Thank goodness!

Lessons ended at 6.30pm today. After which, we had a CIP meeting until 8pm (!!!). I was not only exhausted, but also famished. All I had for the whole day is 2 slices of white bread with jam in the morning, and a can of Cappucino and 3 small sardine puffs which I grabbed hurriedly from the canteen for lunch.

I reached home at 9.30pm, and finally had a proper meal for the day. I love the school holidays; it's only during the holidays when there would be home-cooked dinner. I love Dad's cooking. And, really, it's awesome coming home to nice, home-cooked food. It makes one happy.



Tired! Logging off soon!