i dno, i have 1 hour to kill before gerlet arrives at block 56 lobby A in a nissan sunny. and since i have an hour to kill, i want to be as specific as possible.

a few hours ago, i woke up and yawned. i picked up my handphone and replied the lhc's message. i continued lying down and waited for her reply. the lhc was a bad girl. instead of making after plans, she gave me as simple a reply as, "lol. its okay. we are alr watching." i lanyard-ed my phone around my neck, and it must come as a surprise to some of ma holmies because they are so used to making harmless and aimless threats such as, "call the police. somebody stole joey's neck," but it's okay, i like to get back at their braces, their acts of a clown, and their almost mutated texture on the neck. i still love them. 

i took the necessary steps down and out of my bed, and looked around. i walked to my desk, opened up the drawers and cupboards, and began the mission to organise my things. i took out a whole stack of A3 papers that bore my year 1 attempts at making the cut for promotion, and went through it. i sat down on the floor, and piece by piece, i went through the same process - pick it up, scan briefly, and then into the black garbage bag. i came across one piece that had my attention longer than the others. i looked at the brief floor plan i penned a few months ago, and thought about poh. i remembered - he remarked sarcastically, "your father mother sell template one ah.?" when all i ever wanted was to be that little neater than the rest of my classmates by writing the numbers 1-13 in different sections of the room. i smiled weakly, and concluded a note-to-self: kiang jiu ho, mai gei kiang. i crushed that piece of paper venomously and tossed it into the black garbage bag. i think i threw at least 40 pieces of A3 sized paper into this black garbage bag. i picked up 6 sketch books with an orange coloured cover, still in its original packaging. as i placed these 6 sketch books away into a corner of the just-emptied cupboard, i thought and recalled a few months back when my mom and i was shopping in IMM's daiso. i remembered telling my mom that $2 for a sketch book was cheap, as compared to the branded ones sold in Popular. my mom nodded her head as i placed 6 identical sketch books into the shopping basket. i smiled weakly - it could have gone to waste. i threw away all my unwanted previous year drawings and writings (not that i had a lot to be thrown away). i stood up from where i was sitting and my electronic drum pad on the side table caught my attention. i offed the power source and unplugged all the wires attached to the drum pad. i placed it back into its original box and thought - this passion will have to be demoted to the very end of my priority list. i kept the box away in the darkest corner of my storeroom. i walked back to my desk, picked up the pair of wooden drum sticks and kept it in my drawer. 3 seconds later, i re-opened the drawer and took the drumsticks out. i must be crazy - i will not have the luxury of time to visit and rent the studio over at moberly anymore with my friends. i walked back to the storeroom and slipped the drumsticks into the same box. i thought again - this passion will have to wait. 

i sat down in front of my cupboard and saw 4 stacks of butter pads. i recalled immediately the time when my mom and i were at bras basah's art friend. "mommy just buy more la. next time year 2 year 3 also will need to use. don't have to always travel to buy." i mentally mock at myself and gave a slight smile that could only be unravelled by the gradient formed at the edge of my lips. i took these 4 stacks of A3 butter pads, placed it on my lap, wiped the cupboard half-heartedly before replacing them back to its original position. i made a note-to-self again: will promise to put to very good use in future. i packed my empty files and folders beside these stacks of butter pads. i closed the cupboard and stood up. i tried to remember what was left undone. i suddenly recalled - i wanted a proper and working desktop on my desk for future computer aided design presentation work, which is one of the module i neglected. i cannot zip the software into my mac because microstation doesn't support an Apple operating system. i looked around aimlessly. 20 seconds later, i walked into my mother's room.

in 8 minutes, i had already made 4 trips in and out of my mother's room, each time with a part of her desktop in my hands. i placed the CPU under the table, and the keyboard, mouse and LCD screen on the table. i thread all the wires through a hole specially made for easy and neat wiring on the table. i sat under my table, and started plugging in all the required wires into all the correct holes. i switched on the power source on the wall behind my table, and tried to boot up this very old desktop. it is still working well. i shut down the computer, laid back on a chair, and felt accomplished for setting an entire desktop up by myself. i promised myself to not corrupt and change this desktop into one filled with games and free internet softwares. for a full 3 minutes, i rested on my chair. 

it was around 0845 when i turned my head and saw my mother and adeline standing in position, waiting for instructions, so that they could offer any assistance if needed. this is what i call support. the mother cried twice in this span of 3 weeks - once during the interview for appeal in front of 3 stern committees of DARCH, and another on the phone with a Mr Goh. i must have worried my mom. i re-positioned the table lamp into the farthest corner of my table, and thought about how it accompanied me through my sleepless nights when i was rushing for a coursework submission. sleepless night count for the joey: 4 times in a year. sleepless night count for the joey's classmates: twice in a month. at 0855, my mom called out for dinner. i went to bath away all the well-worked sweat, and put on some fresh clothes. my mom and i took the lift down. i half-yearned when i saw a familiar uncle standing outside cheers dragging on his cigarette. 

at around 0910, i was walking towards beauty world centre. i walked up to the third level to a bookstore selling 2nd hand story books. i purchased a copy of the host by stephanie meyer. the uncle offered to wrap the book up nicely for me. i took the escalator down to the bookstore in search of an organiser. i picked up the first one that caught my attention. i felt the width of the organiser with my outstretched fingers. no good, too small. i placed it back on the shelf. i picked another one. almost suitable. it was in a monthly-view format instead of a daily-view. i looked at the cover again. it was too girly a pink for a guy like me. i picked up another brown in colour one from the shelf. in 2 seconds, i replaced it and figured i wanted a black coloured one. i walked out of the bookstore, unsatisfied. i met up with my mom at shop and save. as i was walking towards her direction, she picked up 2 tubs of ice cream from the basket she was holding. she asked if i liked that particular flavour. i told her to put it back into the freezer and save some money. she seemed surprised at my maturity. it was nothing of that. i had a guilty conscience - in a few days time, my mom will have to giro another year's of education fees because of my incapability to focus and stay on-track the diploma course i chose after the release of my O level results. and yes, besides, the soccer kids that meet every evening in the tennis court seemed to have disappeared into thin air. i could do without extra sugar in my unhealthy and obese body system. i left my mother for a few minutes, and went to look for this poker set shahridan told me about that morning. i found it at the corner of a rack, unappealing and ordinary. we paid  $37.60 for our basket full of groceries, and crossed the road to offload the heavy bags into the car. 

we walked into Sinma Claypot Frog Porridge along cheong chin nam road, and took our place in the air conditioned eatery. 5 frogs dressed in a divinely cooked gravy became our dinner. i had 4 out of the 5 frogs because mama teh put down her chopsticks and declared a full stomach just 10 minutes since the time we sat down. we paid $28.45 for our dinner. we took away 2 packets of mr patrick from al ameen for the starving and complaining brothers at home. 

at 1030, we walked into our home. i opened up my laptop and went on an endless spree of blog hopping. i spent 2 aimless hours on the internet. i picked up my jeffrey archer, and turned to the page denoted by a lunar node bookmark cum ep launch ticket. the noise coming from the tv screen in the living room made it hard to concentrate. i looked at the time. 1230am. i picked up my phone and gave gerald a call. he was busy talking to his girlfriend. that was when i figured i had an hour to kill. i took my laptop and went down to the poolside. i lit a cigarette. i finished my cigarette and opened up my laptop. i tapped into a wireless network named 'linksys'. i clicked once on an application called Safari on my dock and typed in the words blogger.com. i was brought to my blog's dashboard. i hit the 'new post' button and began typing this mini essay i title A reminder to self - Lest I get distracted once again. my handphone just rung, producing a classic ring tone. the words gugly. 91701438. appeared on the interface. i picked up the call and pressed the End button 6 seconds later. i only had to reply, "okay coming." i am going to click on the 'publish post' button, giving this entry a public status in the cyber world, and making everyone of you who have read this essay to this point a witness to the commitment i promise to give in my studies this very day. 

so long, goodnight. *proceeds to walk to nissan sunny under block 56 lobby A*