just sent my sister off to shanghai while looking wistfully at the planes soaring past the glass walls of T3. what would i give to be able to fly off, now, before The Dreaded Incident of Tomorrow arrives. you know what i mean. saying it out is sheer taboo, since the whole world, especially the aunties at 33rd level, insist on reminding me of It everytime they see me. i tell them, in all seriousness, that if i'm not at work on monday, they will know what happened. and i see a bit of panic in their eyes when they exclaim, 'cannot like that think lah!'

people worry about It because they don't know if they will do well or not. i worry because i dread to see living proof that i did not do well.

its bloody over. sealed in that laminated sheet. bah. i'm all prepared to bawl my eyes out while the rest of the hall cheers, and then try to move on with life.

AND. i will NOT read the papers/watch the news/listen to the radio for around a week after The Dreaded Day just in case reports like last year's 'RJC students cry after not getting 4 A's' start appearing on the front-page news. that might really drive me to go on a mad rampage to annihilate every swotting, straight-A mugger in singapore.