Monday Faithful: A Week of Very Bad And Very Good Food, and, A New Day

Courtesy of Andy's iPhone

Okay, The Original Post's At The Office, This Is From Memory
I'm at a new workplace now, and they've given me a workstation to work from (which is where I silly-ly left the original post for today). It's a powermac G5, which is was a good thing, but is a pretty slow machine even when placed side by side with my Thinkpad. The internet's unstable too, so I'm not all that reachable via IM anymore. No matter, small sacrifice. The work's making me pumped, and right now, I can barely believe my ears when they call me a "writer". Woot.

Food Disasters
I seldom complain about food these days. Having come out of the armed forces, I've eaten muddy biscuits and insects. That would tell you about my threshold for lousy food. So when I say that the dish-rag-water soup and pond scum carbonara pasta sauce was bad, believe me. The only thing good about it was that the ladies clearing the tables seemed to know that it stank too, and they were happy to get rid of it for me.

Please, whatever you do, never eat at Funan Centre's Minced Pork Noodle Stall, or the Pasta Stall at Marina Square's food court. You've been warned

Food Saviours
Good food came our way eventually, and that I was eternally thankful for. There was excellent chicken rice at Bishan, there was Dim Sum at Chinatown, and there was a treat to Tung Lok Restaurant that I'm sure many of you know of. Big thanks to our buddies who took us there, and accompanied us on our short break. You guys are always appreciated :)

The Naughty Little Boy
We've yet to resist the urge to give the little boy nicknames, and the count now is close to ten. There are references to bad eggs and watermelons, as well as the occasional "porridge". That's from when we remember him kicking and swirling around in the Missus' stomach. As playful as he is, he's absolutely pleasant outside of his hunger pangs (where he turns into a screaming and kicking squirmy thing - oh, that makes it ten names now).

We spent loads of time with him this week, taking him out to places while the major upgrading works at my place tore up the block. He had loads of fun. And so did we.

I don't know about you, but no matter how tired I am, no matter how worried, or how amazingly drowned in defeatism I feel, all it takes is a smile from him all cuddled up in his mother's arms, and bad feelings go away.

We're strong enough to fight again. And that we will.