Calm before the storm

This post was supposed to be written yesterday, but I was out nearly the whole day, and by the time I returned home I was too tired.

Flashback: It was a particularly hectic day. I had to wake up at the crack of dawn even though it was a Saturday. The reason, a day camp in school, projected to last until late afternoon.

In the beginning, the camp was really boring. Ironically this was the part where we were supposed to do some ice-breaking. I spent the better part of it admiring the puffy clouds adorning the sky-blue, uh, sky. Truly a waste of a very good day, I thought. Somehow, I just wasn't in the mood for some fun and games (friends in the know would be aware of the reason). Things have failed to live up to expectations and it set the tone for the day.

Thankfully, we had to move on to other activities very soon after, but not before a few long winded speeches by the organising committee and teacher advisor. Even though this is supposedly a motivation camp, I was anything but motivated at this point. My thoughts were elsewhere, in tomorrow's bridge run and about someone. I was merely going through the motions, reluctantly participating in games and making my apathy known. This was coupled with fatigue, with me having less than 5 hours sleep the night before.

After a quick break and refreshments, we proceeded to being tormented by the officials in charge, usually with water. We were put through silly tasks, some even humiliating. But in the spirit of being sporting, I had to suck it up and take it, even though I wanted to punch some of their lights out just for being so annoying. I guess professionalism is the order of the day for me. I just don't see their humour.

I did manage to sit through the whole thing, I thought. Alas, we had one last task, the most odious one of all I reckon. We still had to sit through the closing ceremony of sorts. Imagine this, a whole room of stinking teenagers, I really do have a high tolerance for BO. To me this part dragged on the longest, the self-admitted compulsive talker teacher just couldn't stop talking. The committee also had a lot to add. All the while, my mum was contantly ringing me and pestering me to come out.

Anyway, we were allowed to go, sort of, since we were called back moments later for some more ear wax cleansing speeches. But it was too late, I had seen my chance, and I took it with both hands. I just strode out without looking, even though they were specifically calling for me to stay for a little while longer. My mum and her accomplices, my aunt, cousin and sis, were already in the school compound, ready to whisk me away.

We went downtown to try to obtain a Physics reference book. It was a futile search and we adjourned to a nearby cafe for high tea or early dinner depanding on how you look at it (it was 6pm at this point). Next, it was off to church for me. I was mentally fatigued and very disturbed.

To clear my thoughts I had already decided to take a romantic stroll, with myself thank you, even though I had a half marathon to endure tomorrow. This time, I decided to take a walk to the Esplanade, this way, I could also do some reconnaisance for an upcoming competition. The route there in itself is not that tough on its own, but the drivers in Penang seemed to decide to congregate along there, for traffic was constantly flowing. It is a wonder that despite all the carbon monoxide present, I still did not pass out. It is during times like this that you get a good look at Penang. For instance, I could barely make out anything at all along one stretch, since there were totally no streetlights! It was a harrowing experience walking through some places, not for fear of muggers but for the fact that Malaysians are such damned good drivers.

Close calls aside, I did manage to reach the Esplanade in one piece. But it was on to another threat to my sanity, high pitched singing. I have neglected the fact that the state level choir competition was being held at the Dewan Sri Pinang hall there. The moment I got within hearing distance of the building, my senses were assailed by a chorus of already high pitched voices singing on falsetto. They were enough to make my hair stand straighter than a flagpole. My friedns in the choir would probably disagree, but I just don't find listening to that type of sound pleasant at all. I endured that for the minute or two it took to move to the back of the building.

After touring a few rounds around the vicinity of the place, it was time to go. My original plan was to walk back along the same way, but my legs simply wouldn't allow me, not if I want to survive my upcoming half-marathon with some pride. And even if I physically could walk home, I wasn't mentally in shape to. The dark stretches and historical aura would have been too much. Plan B entails a bus ride home, and the jetty was just around the block. I spent 15 minutes walking there, only to find out that the buses were heading there straight into the depot. In the end I had to turn to my last resort, my old folks.

So after 2 hours of walking around aimlessly trying to clear my head, I wound up waiting in front of Dewan Sri waiting for my chariot. All the while assailed by strains of high pitched sound (I refuse to call it music). This sums up my day pretty well, my issues were still unresolved, and I am still depressed.