How could you desert me in my hour of need? I thought you were always there, and I thought you'd always be there. I never thought that you'd be missing when I searched for you. I never meant to abandon you. I looked for you before, briefly, yes, but nevertheless, I did search for you. You didn't materialise then, and you didn't materialise now either. You're never going to materialise, are you? Just when I needed you, you chose to disappear from my life. In your place, is an empty, gaping hole. Only you can fill that hole. Please return to me, Jane Austen. Without you, I cannot do my Lit essay assignment, and without you, I will have to fail my Literature during A Levels.

Gotcha there, didn't I? I can't find my Persuasion book, and I've dug into the deepest, darkest corners of my overflowing cupboard, ransacked the numerous shelves in my house that are filled with odd books (Book of Massage, a book on squash, books on politics and raising your kids, and a whole lot of weird books. My parents are indeed eccentric), searched the cupboard with storybooks, and found nothing. I can't even find my old copy of Persuasion. How could Austen have disappeared?

Reasons why I hate running in the gym:

1. You run for 45 minutes and you're still stuck on the same spot. It would've been funny if it wasn't tragic.
2. There is absolutely nothing to see in the gym, except the roads, and cars driving in and out.
3. Stupid males banging the weights down, making you jump periodically while running. Just as you're about to achieve a perfect balance between mind and body, BAM! The weights come crashing down, in a testosterone-induced fit of what they assume to be manliness and strength. You wouldn't believe the amount of swear words that race through my mind when that happens. Why can't they gently set the weights down? Once or twice, it's okay, it's an accident, but not all the time right! I know you can lift the bloody weight, get over it! And I'm not being sexist, it is always the males, from prolonged observation.
4. The air-conditioning.

Okay, good to get that all of me. Especially #3, it really irks me. But the gym is the only place where I can force myself to continue running for 45 minutes straight at a constant speed, without stopping. I can't do that at the tracks. And I daren't go to the reservoir anymore, partly 'cos a girl hanged herself from a tree there recently, and partly cos the sun would just kill me. On a brighter note, I love the feeling of sweat gushing down my neck, oozing out of my pores and drenching my entire body. I love the feeling of it flowing down the back of my neck and down the middle of my back, I love how it drips down my face in rivulets. Okay, shall stop at there, I imagine I must sound weird.

I got back one component of Lit today, and I just passed it, 13/25. The only time I did below my expectations was back in Sec 3, and I barely passed back then too. 52/100- I still remember. And both times, it was due to misinterpretation. I felt depressed for all of 5 minutes today, and I'm beginning to worry that something like that might happen at A Levels. And that would be the worst thing, because it wasn't because I didn't study, but because I misinterpreted the question. What if it occurs
during the A Levels? I'd be devastated, and my depression will last for more than 5 minutes, I assure you. Econs somewhat cheered me up, I got 20/30 for MCQ. Not that it's good, Miss Jeeva said we were supposed to get 25 and above, cos it's an easy paper. Hurhur. Okay, but as long as I learn from my mistakes, doesn't matter. At least not at this stage.

103 days to A Levels. Roughly 3 months to go. It's gonna be a journey of epic proportions, filled with overwhelming trials and tribulations, but armed with Teddy Geiger, Iris and Lifehouse, and my friends of course, I shall trudge on tirelessly and conquer the big, bad one-eyed monster called "A Levels".

Sorry for the bullshit, was watching Odyssey or Odyssius, or whatever the show's called during Lit class today. Interesting indeed. This thing called "self-control", it interests me a lot. There was this part which remains in my mind.

Wife of Odyssieus: You have a heart made of stone.

Mother of Odyssieus: Yes, if it bleeds (and something, can't remember) everyday.

Okay I didn't do justice to that sentence, I think I just bungled it. But it's something alone those lines lah, it was rather moving.

ANYWAY!!! I have a cordless phone! Like finally!! My primitive parents finally bought a cordless phone!! Now I can lie on my bed and yak on the cordless phone all day, painting my nails and gossiping with my sistaz. (That's what they always do in the movies, I've always wanted to try it) A few problems though: I hate painting my nails 'cos I demand perfection from the nail polish; each coat has to be perfectly smooth, which more often that not my unsteady hands are incapable of achieving, so when the polish gets warped, it really annoys me, so I end up not painting my nails at all. Secondly, nobody ever calls me. The last time I talked to anyone on the phone was Zhiying, calling to ask me what was tested for European History. The conversation lasted for a minute. And that was about 2 to 3 weeks back. The fact that I can even remember the convo speaks volumes. So maybe the cordless phone isn't going to revolutionise my life much. But whatever, please do still call me on my new cordless phone!!! :D

Alright. I'm off for now. Good day!