Stressed or Cuckoo?

After last night's oily prata at Al-Falah behind church, I went home bloated, nauseous.. and...

a nightmare.

I dreamt I stepped onto the weighing machine like those in THE BIGGEST LOSER..

lifted my head to the tv screen and BAM!

58 kg!

I turned behind, trying to laugh off the fact that the scale was spoilt.

I stepped up again & it still was 58kg.

I'm glad I woke up after that... :(

***

Set my alarm to wake up at 9am.

Jumped out of bed to check if dad was still home.

Asked what time he was going out.

He turned to give me that kind of what-do-you-want & i'm-talking-with-my-eyes stare.

I thought he was backing out on his words like Ivy did.

I thought he didn't want to give me the Singapore Airshow tickets.

and it turned out...

the airshow was NEXT WEEK.

aileen aileen, what an idiot.

No wonder for the first time, my dad smsed something not like him yesterday,

"It's ok if you can't go to the Airshow. Don't feel bad about it. Take it easy."

hm..

when was i not taking it easy?

there must be something wrong with me this week...