A Singaporean In Australia

I hate Tuesdays and it's true. Today was just another one. As shit as ever.

Monday was bad as usual for everyone, probably me included. I did yet another legendary 12 hour shift and slept as early as I could. I had enough sleep but the moment I woke on Tuesday I knew it was not going to be my day. I was not even in a mood to write anything, which was rare.

Nothing went well. My appetite was mediocre. I didn't felt like going to work. My neck felt stiffer than usual and every muscle in my back hurt. My fingers had yet to recover from its strange condition. I felt grouchy on the way to work.

During work, nothing went my way either. I was not 100% at work. Every of my hoisting was horrible and awkward, leaving witnesses gaping. One of the giant plates fell midway when I was lifting it with a magnet. Work was grueling and I found that I was slow compared to my peers despite putting in my best. A quick wonder when I was getting sacked came and went.

During my breaks, no one wanted to talk to me on watsapp. I ate my sandwich alone in my car because I was sick of the kimchi smell in the common room. Then the wife sent a msg via watsapp saying a Wolf Spider of the size of a palm got into our room. If you do not know what a Wolf Spider is, it's better not to. Eugene flushed it down the toilet in the end.

At the second break, I asked Steve the supervisor how does Wolf Spiders get into houses where flies could hardly even get in. He laughed and said he had absolutely no idea. I concluded that these buggers has the ability to cast some kind of etherealisation spell or teleport.

I literally ground my way to 4am and was ready to get home to see off crap Tuesday. When I turned my ignition, Barry White reversed and crashed into the gate behind me and realised I stopped the car in reverse gear. I cursed and drove home. On the way, I imagined how my boot looked like now. I'm a negative (and I still haven't finished the post about why) person so naturally that image didn't look too good.

When I reached home, I could not see the extent of the damage in dark dawn with my mobile light. It certainly looked much better than I thought. The boot was intact with no damage at all. The bumper had almost negligible scratches but one side of the bumper was bent slightly. I reckon I could get it back looking good with some mallet work without hassle.

Too tired to think about it now. I will inspect Barry White again when I wake. It could be me hallucinating. Barry White could be crushed totally at the back now in reality. After all it's bloody Tuesday.

Tuesdays hate me. The feeling is mutual.