K is for Kafkaesque

MsFickle's Dictionary Guide to Life

Kafkaesque; or used to describe an event or activity that seems bizaare, illogical or both.

Have you ever had a memory of something occuring which couldn't possibly have? Once, I distinctly remember catching a bus from Suntec (opposite Marina Square, Conrad side) to NUS and feeling a very great sense of satisfaction. Here was a bus that led from the interior swamps of Clementi all the way to the heart of the city! I could have wept tears of joy! Kissed the steps of this heaven-sent bus! The bus even took the outer route, and didn't weave in and out of the CBD, which was even better! It took all of half an hour to get to Harbourfront and I hastily committed the number of the bus (30) to memory.

Of course, anyone who plies to NUS frequently will be able to inform you that bus 30 does not go to Suntec. It does to NUS though, so I've no idea what magical vehicle I took that day, because I distinctly recall sitting on one. Kappa laughed derisively when I told, no, insisted that such a bus existed. When we double-checked, not only was the number 30 not on the bus-stop plate, it doesn't even visit Suntec. How tragic. And not to mention, I had to suffer Kappa's smirking the entire day and insinuations about my less than sane state.

So yes. What bus was it? And what on earth was I doing that afternoon I supposedly took a bus to Harbourfront? Who knows. I certainly don't...

Scenes from Around Here

Elegy 8.6 KV

Here lies Sir N.U.S. Cable,

Who went to great lengths

Against the forces of darkness.

Get away Freud!

Last night, or rather early this morning, I dreamt that I was doing my presentation for psychoanalysis class and TR asked if anyone knew who Kierkegaard was. I raised my hand and said "Heidegger" trimphantly.

My group members and TR stared at me blankly. But the worse bit of it was that I had no idea why.

And as to why I would be dreaming about existentialism in a psychoanalytic class is anyone's guess. I am just glad Tamburlaine didn't show up and bore the class to death with his high astounding terms.

And now it's too bloody early. I feel sucky and I am rambling.

Because lightning is scary and rain is good

In a flash of lightning. Then a damp gust
Bringing rain.
- T. S. Eliot 1922

It is raining like mad and each time the lightning hits the condo opposite me, I wince. Which makes it a lot of winces. I am also procrastinating. Just so I can look back at this post and roll my eyes at how hopeless I am in focusing on something.

Additional note to self: I change my mind about living in a penthouse. I don't want my house to keep being struck by lightning as the penthouse opposite keeps being. Yup. I don't want one unless it happens to defeat the purpose of owning a penthouse by being the shortest building in its vicinity.

Further Proof that the World is some kind of joke.

First the laksa,
Then the Shoe.

And to add to the seemingly unending list of surreal moments in the land of tuition:

Today, I was making a sweep down the aisles to ensure that the kids were all copying their homework as dutifully as they should be when I caught my boss waving and beaming cheerfully at me through the glass window in the door. I beamed back and gave a slight wave, and because I had reached the end of the class, I made a turn back to the board to write the explanation for the next question. On turning back, I discovered my boss opening the door, "Oh sorry, excuse me. Can I talk to you?"
... ... ...
Oh.