It’s kind of redunculous that they’ve completely dug up the roads running through the front porch and driveway of our office. Impassable, unwalkable, for there’s no road left. Heck, there’s no ground left. It’s like a waterless moat. Or a ladderless trench. The only way to get to work these days is to slip through a gap in the hoarding into what feels like a construction site, briskwalk down a newly-paved fire engine access road (don’t really like having Bangladeshi workers watching me from both sides…), and leave the path to traverse this unlevelled grass patch to the right of the house. Then there’s a choice of either going in through the backdoor, or through the front after hopping over the four-language DANGER — KEEP OUT signboard thoughtfully placed a few steps away from the mini-abyss that separates the adjacent narrow concrete flooring from what’s left of our front steps.
I can imagine giving directions to our office: “When you see the side of a colonial house with with pots of plants and many booties hanging on the grilles – that’s us! PS. It is not advisable to come during or after a rain; umbrellas aren’t sufficient – you will need WelliesPhua Chu Kang boots. PPS. Heels are not recommended, no matter the weather. PPPS. Please bring torch if leaving after dark.”
Now… let’s zoom into the office, where my colleagues and I have embarked on a late-night regime, as is usually the case during preparation for conferences. We can get quite, quite busy. Call me a masochist, but… I like.
Quote of the day: “I miss running around like a headless chicken and talking to big people.”
on Jun 26th, 2009 at 5:18 am
Somewhat paradoxical some would say :P