December 2022: End-of-Year Meltdowns

Of course I've been "busy". Jon's birthday, our wedding anniversary, my brother's birthday, his sister's birthday, plus a million noisy family get-togethers. 

It was also peak season for the boarding business. Lots of bunnies checking in and out. We also had on our hands 2 major bunny issues this month: one of our boarders got GI stasis (longest 3 days of my life! I barely slept; had to syringe-feed him around the clock) and another was aggressive (I was practically banned from his room).

December was also my first full month of working at the bookstore. I work 16 hours/week, so that's 4-hour shifts, 4 days a week. Working from 6-10pm suits me. But I'm still getting used to it. Having spent most of the past 3 years WFH, it feels very strange to be out of the house for more than a few hours at a time.

It being such a busy month, I decided to not cook, as an experiment. Well I saved $50 less on groceries, but $160 more on dining out, so it's definitely an overall loss in terms of $$$. As for labour/time saving... I don't know. I did cut down the trouble of chopping and washing up, but spent an inordinate amount of time and mental resources trying to decide what to eat. 

Eating out for every meal is deeply unsatisfying. After a month, it gets downright soul-crushing. It was bad not just for my physical health, but also mental and spiritual health. I got an ulcer, not to mention many meltdowns. 

~

As you might know, I have a friend who's dying of cancer. I once hesitated to use the D-word, but I now feel the need to face the truth. When I first went to see her 2 months ago, she was outraged at her body for betraying her. Now, she is half-asleep on fentanyl all the time.

It is a strange feeling, to watch a friend waste away. The worst thing is that illness doesn't just kill her, it also kills our friendship. For what kind of friendship can remain, once pity, fear, sorrow seep in? It's no longer something between equals. Our relationship is now on thin ice. A delicate thing that may shatter if one of us says the wrong thing. The number of conversation topics to avoid has increased tenfold. 

I watch the Last Times happening in real-time. 2 months ago: the Last Time we ate solid food (Burger Kind) together. 1 month ago: the Last Time we smoked cigarettes together. 2 weeks ago: the Last Time we coloured in a colouring book together. There is less and less of life to savour together, and that is death for friendship.

We are like two asteroids that collided and are now drifting irrevocably apart. Nothing in life has prepared me for this feeling, sitting in silence together, me earthbound, she in fentanyl-land. There is no hope of a shared present, let alone a future together. The sense of things turning to ash in your mouth.

I feel like I should visit whenever I have free time, and so, I avoid having free time as much as possible. I feel guilty. I prickle and cry at the tiniest, most absurd things. I wonder what kind of world this is, where two people, once so similar, can turn out so different. One has everything; another is in diapers. 

This sense of how precarious, how entirely contingent, one's good fortune is... it should make me appreciate what I have. But instead it makes me push everything away. Why do I deserve any of it?

What I'm feeling now is the death of God. Even though I'm an atheist. It's the death of many cherished idols... The death of Good Things Happen If You Work Hard For Them. The death of When There's A Will, There's A Way. The death of All Problems Can Be Solved By Talking Them Out. The death of Don't Worry, We'll Figure Something Out. 

~

But let's talk about nice things. Yesterday I tried to make a list of Moments of 2022...

Sitting on the sand at Tanjong Beach with Jon, at sunset. We were watching a fat little Indian kid walking around the shoreline, staring intently at the water and rubbing his belly. Another beach memory: finding horseshoe crabs and stingrays while sunbathing with Van.

Going to the pub quiz at Molly Malone's, sitting in our corner, literally putting our heads together. A couple walked into the pub, whispered "oh my god, why so serious here" and immediately left.

The gorgeous library at VivoCity; catching up with Willie at McDonald's, so stimulated by our ideas I had to pee a million times.

Eating hot, crunchy fish and chips at Rasa Sayang on an inexplicably quiet Saturday.

Countless afternoons at McDonald's Bishan Park. Drying our clothes using the hand dryer while it poured outside, enveloping us in the incredible of wet foliage.

Eating stir-fried sweet potato leaves, sambal goreng from my favourite vegetarian cai png stall. (That ignorant, animal pleasure of gratefully chewing brown rice, temporarily unaware of the sadism of fate.)

Sharing a mediocre ice cream and waffle with Jon at Udders at midnight, watching and making up stories about people.

Shooting the shit with Joel over coffeeshop Erdinger, talking about pseudo-intellectual wank e.g. the legacy of Marxism.

Freezing my ass off at Singapore Writers Festival, and the milky, sugary shock of hot tea at King Umar Teh Tarik Cafe.

Melting onto our extremely comfortable leather couch and ottomans, the sweet-smelling night air pouring into our living room, drinking a cup of tea and watching (laughing at) our bunnies (also sweet-smelling).

~

Goodbye 2022.

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