Dogs and other nonsense

Out of the four households living on this floor, two own dogs. I've never liked the dogs staying on my level because they bark non-stop and don't seem friendly. I do like dogs but I don't dare to play with all dogs because I can't really tell a friendly bark from a fierce one. And how do you tell when they keep waving their tails at you but look like they want to pounce on you?

Having been chased by quite a few dogs (five dogs in these twenty plus years) doesn't help much. The only friendly dog I remember is my grandma's dog who would be kind enough to entertain me. I used to call out to her and she would run to me and look at me in an inquisitive manner. Those eyes. "Little mistress, what do you want me to do? Why did you call me?"

After looking at me and looking blur, she would go back to what she was doing. I was always very happy that she actually responded and I would call her again and again. Cute dog. =) Old though. I felt sorry that I kept making her run when she would have rested.

Ah, fond memories of childhood in that house with the area at the back. The tortoise who ate vegetables. The pillars. I miss that house.

Right now, the little dog next door is barking very loudly. Small dog but I'm still scared of it because it barks like it will tear chunks of meat off my thighs or something.

It's twelve midnight. Well, I got this sudden scary explanation as to why it is barking so loudly. *shivers* I don't like to scare myself.

I was audited today for the ISO 9001 external audit. Twice. I. am. tired. but. I. still. feel. a. wee. bit. excited. to. sleep. There's the race on Friday. TMD scared me today on how long 400 M is. He's just asking to be pinched and punched.

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I wonder why there are mosquitoes suddenly. The invisible type. My palms and soles of feet feel like they have been bitten. And I can't scratch. Argh.

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I was thinking the other day that I should do up a list of things I don't like. Then I thought maybe I was focusing on the wrong things (why don't I do up a list of things I like instead?) but yea, I think I want to do up a list of things I don't like.

1) people who put their feet(with shoes) on the opposite seats
2) no seats on public transport
3) people who shake their legs non-stop.
4) guys who sit with their legs far too wide open. Worse if they shake their legs too.
5) the potent smell which you will smell if you are the end of the train and the train door opens at Lavender MRT, in the direction towards Boon Lay. It smells POISONOUS.
6) People who scratch their heads multiple times when they sit beside me on the bus.
7) People who SQUEEZE themselves onto seats and squeeze me out of my seat.

OK, all to do with public transport for the time being.

Weirdos

There are two people I saw on the bus who left quite an impression and are worth mentioning on this blog.

Person 1: You know, the lower deck of those double decker buses where there are two rows of seats facing each other. He sat opposite me. Then, he started digging his nose conspicuously. You know, really obvious, like he's in his own home. Comfortably digging his nose and then rolling the whatever between his fingers like he's playing with putty.

I looked on, partly amazed and mostly disgusted. He didn't seem to care. Fortunately, he didn't stick the stuff onto the seats or handrails.

Person 2: Same. This was today. She sat opposite me too. Decent looking middle-aged woman. Then I realized she put her hand between her crossed thighs. Mid-thigh. Whole journey. Maybe her hand was cold.

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Totally boliao entry. Hahaha. Pardon me. I'm a little tired today.

I wish I can remember all those random thoughts I have and record them here. It should be fairly interesting. Just too bad that I haven't been that good at remembering these things these days. I forget them before I can get a chance to write. And I hardly feel like writing these days.

I'm just blabbering here because I'm half asleep but I don't want to go to bed yet. I need to go to bed feeling lighter, less burdened. I am dreading this conversation I will have tomorrow because I know I am going to make someone all worked up and angry and desperate again. Not that I can help it. It's an unwritten part of my job description.

I hate making people miserable. I wonder how many people have committed suicide after reading the letters I sent them. I remember the few who cried and begged over the phone. And those who threatened to kill themselves.

What do we find ourselves doing? We deal with these people using textbook answers. We apologise profusely. We have no real answers on how to solve their problems. Over time, compassion runs thin, we become increasingly annoyed and then, we just become numb and tired. Occasionally there's still this sense of panic and dread when someone warns that the person is super nasty.

I used to think I could make a difference.