There's this overflow in the first

day back at work.

An overflow of that holiday laid-back at-peace-with-the-world buzz. It's laid-back, but it's such a buzz. It's one oxymoron I couldn't live without.

Who doesn't get a buzz from a holiday?

A holiday means anti-work. So does that mean work is anti-holiday?

Ok, I just did a Yoda without even realising it. My bad.

I'm here, and there's news about Shinzo Abe's coalition doing badly at the polls ('crushing defeat' is what the wires call it), and with AzS here to entertain me, it helps eases the holiday overflow a little into more of an niggling ebb.

And I've got the lovely, dark velvet of kd lang's Hallelujah in my ears. Pure velvet. Makes your heart break.

The secret

is out.

I can get local food (hello peng hur! hello mee pok!!) - read: hawker food - delivered to my doorstep if I so choose.

All this, thanks to http://www.hungry.com.sg/.

The perks of being a tour guide! I was bringing Steve, Vincent, Irene and Winston, who were visiting from Melbourne for their hawker food fix when I found out that there's a delivery service.

The wonderful idea sends all of the food from Chomp Chomp and that lovely shop which used to be Athira - it's now called The Prata House, talk about leaving no room for imagination - so, stingray, mee pok, murtabak, kambing soup, mango lassi, whatever are all within the reach of my short arms.

Just poke the phone, and food will appear. Not fast food, mind you. REAL food.

Now that I've got my National Day Menu for Working On That Public Holiday...

Partying in the office is a different kind of party. In fact, Joey, an intern at my office, is about to break his vow of Never Ever Eating to celebrate national festivities. Go Joey!

PS. I can't believe I forgot to list food as one of my favourite things. That has got to change.

I think I might be ready

to start blogging again.

I don't know: this start-stop, start-stop rhythm that I have is bound to drive anyone crazy, especially myself.

Went to Kuching for Steve's grandma's 80th birthday over the weekend. Check. Started reading Stephen King's Lisey's Story. Check. Want to read Harry Potter. Check.

Wrote to Desmond, or rather, a black hole. Check.

You see, if I wasn't a nostalgic person, I wouldn't have done so, or even started blogging again.
It's all about nostalgia.

You blog, seemingly to document a day or an event or a moment or even a thought (if lucky), but it is always a backward-looking, a grasping at the past.

Who do I blog for, to? Myself? The reading masses? God?

Meanwhile, I wait for Steve to return to Singapore. Thursday is on its way.