In the name of Allah, my Lord, my Everything :)
Allah huAkbar, Allah huAkbar Allah huAkbar, walillahil hamdh
(hey, I started this entry in a right manner –I supposed- huhuuu inshaAllah)
As I went on rambling and ranting on my previous entry, I still couldn’t get myself over it -----> those stuff that made me despair or something like that. I usually have this ‘writing therapy’ to make me realize that there’re always more to live. But this time around, it seems like I’ve to learn it the hard way. Ouch!
--------------------> it’s about the 3rd month of my post-grad life. And I’m progressing like Pentium 1 desktop computer, coping very hard to the expectations of what I’m ought to do and be. The ‘temporary comma’ for my reading mode has officially reached an end, the moment I met my dearest supervisor last week. And I realized she made me practically read and read and read and read a long list of ‘important stuff’ every single day until the end of March before I can tell my interest field to
suicide myself do my research on. No lie.
What really ticks me off about this is that, I didn’t perform as I should. I put the blame on me. Should something bugged me off; I’ll take quite some times to get myself ‘recover’ and start to picking up or something like that quite slow. Guess I’m living a real ineffective life with inefficient heart and mind management. Three-month time should have taught me lots of things and I shall be way more familiar with my ‘current status’, right? T_______________________T
--------------------------> this second ‘prima-facie’ is lil bit disastrous at one point or another. This is what a daughter can cost a father. Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh… (I hope that gives you the idea how scary my upcoming point would be)
You see, I’ve been serving my academy under the ‘Post-grad Scheme’ and working for 24-hours per month should allow me to claim thirteen hundreds bucks from the management. And the word ‘claim’ itself has drawn a negative connotation which would mean ‘a long-torturing full of anticipation- wait’. And between that period of time, this dearest, apple of her father’s eyes beautiful daughter has caused ‘tremendous’ troubles along the way. Mark my point here; since I can’t afford myself yet, I’ve to still, depending on my father’s wallet to survive my full of ‘pleasant surprises’ life.
Last week, I was so kind to ‘wash’ a friend’s contact lenses’ case altogether with her lenses which of course I need to replace her ‘eyes’ back with my pocket money----> from my father. I know I was seriously clumsy and all over the place. My bad, my bad.
At another point of time, I was so very friendly that I was utilizing my post-paid Celcom plan to the max. Errr, actually, I made my father pays around hundred every month. Yes, that’s terrible. I must figure out tactic and strategy which sounds like ‘wise-use’ or something or else, ... I don’t have the heart to imagine what’s next.
Other than that, I’m real mobile and flexible that I could get myself everywhere I wish to. And be careful with the ‘mobility and flexibility’ notion. To move or to get myself somewhere, would mean, another consumption of money. I hop in and off of public transports too often and caught lots of ‘cabs’ as well.
Perhaps, I need to look for other part time jobs. Or apply for various scheme, incentives or stuff like that to draw in some financial assistance for my ‘uncang magic’. Starting a small business would make a sound too. Hurmn… all of the alternatives were listed. It’s about time to pick.
I wanna be good ^^