movers & fakers

My life as a fake

What have I done? How quickly, effortlessly, I've become one of Them. Them on the buses wearing headphones and expressionless faces. Them on the Terrace in gravity-defying footwear and attack mode. Them in the cubicles, before flickering screens, in the tea-rooms, at the photocopiers, ... forever adding up the bills and counting down to the weekend.

My 2-week flirtation with the public sector came and went.

Met good people, even if no abiding friendships to speak of. The General Counsel who had limited 'people skills' but a decent sense of humour no less, i.e. Typical Lawyer. A friendly visiting lawyer who happened to be the daughter of a favourite lecturer of mine. The token Asian HR lady who offered us muffins made by her young children. A fellow student clerk who enthused over her previous, far more lavish, stint at a big firm. The AC who reminded me of Beavis or Butthead (dunno which is which) - in appearance only, definitely not in terms of intelligence of love of mischief.

Missed out on participating in the Big Case of the Moment, due to the opponent being represented by my next employer. Perhaps as retribution for my moving to the Dark Side, perhaps because I hid my lack of motivation (or of talent) less well than I thought, the jobs I got assigned were miscellaneous at best, and neither challenging nor stimulating. Like sifting through engineers' reports; organising files; poring over Second Reading speeches; couriering documents; photocopying. But I've had worse, and no doubt will come across worse still.

The right move

It's coming up to a fortnight since I moved out of the garage-turned-studio backside of my parents' house, and I haven't looked back... Except literally, every weekend, when I return for babysitting duties, laundry, mum's delectable soups, and free internet.

All is well in the sharehouse. I've no complaints whatsoever, not even about my bedroom - which I've named *Tiny Tits*, for its size and position (= totally in the sun), as well as to be ironical having regard to its inhabitant's dimensions - contrary to the (much appreciated) concerns of my housemates.

I am especially enjoying:
- the manifold increase in control over my food intake
- the equally spectacular relaxation in what passes for cleanliness
- being able to have friends over at my leisure
- not having trashy Chn TV as permanent background music
- (to be advised)

And I've yet to have a "Who the f*ck are these people? What the f*ck was I thinking?"-type moment. So keep your fingers crossed for us!