Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Oh shit

Twenty Questions: How Do I Know If I'm A Workaholic?

  1. Do you get more excited about your work than about family or anything else?
  2. Are there times when you can charge through your work and other times when you can't?
  3. Do you take work with you to bed? On weekends? On vacation?
  4. Is work the activity you like to do best and talk about most?
  5. Do you work more than 40 hours a week?
  6. Do you turn your hobbies into money-making ventures?
  7. Do you take complete responsibility for the outcome of your work efforts?
  8. Have your family or friends given up expecting you on time?
  9. Do you take on extra work because you are concerned that it won't otherwise get done?
  10. Do you underestimate how long a project will take and then rush to complete it?
  11. Do you believe that it is okay to work long hours if you love what you are doing?
  12. Do you get impatient with people who have other priorities besides work?
  13. Are you afraid that if you don't work hard you will lose your job or be a failure?
  14. Is the future a constant worry for you even when things are going very well?
  15. Do you do things energetically and competitively including play?
  16. Do you get irritated when people ask you to stop doing your work in order to do something else?
  17. Have your long hours hurt your family or other relationships?
  18. Do you think about your work while driving, falling asleep or when others are talking?
  19. Do you work or read during meals?
  20. Do you believe that more money will solve the other problems in your life?

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Oh glumness

I'm not cut out for working from home. Away from the constant mental stimulation of the office and all my stationery, I am bereft, isolated and depressed. But the house arrest orders have been extended and here I stay.

The dietary restrictions have also been extended and clarified (who knew that cranberries in Singapore have sugar added to them??) and I have done my level best to educate those members of my family who bring me food out of the kindness of their heart but my mother probably needs a little bit more explaining time.

I cannot eat carbs or sugary foods, I tell her. I will go into premature labour.

Ok, says she. Here are 2 boxes of durians (very expensive you know. You better finish!) and a slice of home-made cheesecake. You better try, otherwise Melvin (long-suffering housekeeper) will be upset. Do you want some mangoes? From the market. They are very sweet. Are you eating at my house for dinner? We have seafood pasta.

Now everything in the fridge smells of durian. According to The Husband, so does the stuff in the freezer. In fact, my durian is making our neighbour cough and sneeze. If I were at all concerned about public health and safety, I should bring the durian downstairs and eat it by the pool, late at night, when there's no one around.

In other news, I received the amazing gift of a 3D ultrasound from Expat@Large yesterday, for which we are deeply, profoundly grateful. The images are AMAZING. He captured an eye moving and a smile!!! A SMILE!!!! Babies smile in the womb!!! Oh my God!!

He also captured a great shot of the baby grabbing and squeezing her umbilical cord like her brother grabs and squeezes his ... Play-Doh. Not a well advised move. Just as I was commenting on exactly how ill advised it is to abuse something you depend entirely upon for your continued existence, I saw her smooshing the placenta with her forehead. The placenta. That's great. Then when I thought she couldn't do anything worse, she puts the umbilical cord in her mouth and starts gnawing on it. Now there's a prime candidate for premature delivery.

Her brother was so calm and collected during his 36.5 week stay. The most he ever did was hiccup and give me Braxton-Hicks contractions during American Idol. Her hiccups are twice the frequency of his, and she manages to flip and flop around in there like 2 puppies fighting. I'm almost completely certain that she has also managed to get hold of a sharp instrument that she's using to stab my kidneys with. 2 days ago, my belly-button, which inverted itself very early in the pregnancy, suddenly extruded another 1.5 centimetres because of a small unknown bony appendage (knee? elbow? big toe?) that had found its way just under it. I almost fainted. It's just a thin layer of skin there with no muscle underneath. If she pushes any harder, she could be the first baby to perform her own Caesarean.