a sock, but with a beard

Writing here to keep me awake until time to go to office…hmm…I wonder until what time I will last at Quickschools today. Me without coffee has always been a questionable, sub-human affair.

This stay-up-since-sahur thing is proving to be working. I get so much done in the mornings, before 11, it makes me wonder if I’m actually a morning person (the 5am kind of morning, that is) instead of waking up at 10, then drink coffee and un-cobweb my brain, then sloowwwwly get to work, which would be around 11. With the new schedule I am mostly done before 11!

But what time did I sleep for the last two nights? 9. 9:30. Habis kuat pun pukul 10 kut. Haha. Macam penoreh getah pulak. (Not that I assume to know kesukaran kehidupan seorang penoreh getah — eh extra sensitive pulak — currently reading The Travels of a T-shirt in a Global Economy, which describes the hardship of farm life, and that it’s so hard that the farm people find working in Nike sweatshops a blessing. More about this when I finish the book. If I finish the book, I mean.)

Can’t help to share this bit though – do you know that the US people who are given the task of patrolling their shores from terrorists, also are given the manuals to patrol for fugitive socks (ie socks made in China)? Such was the protectionism for US apparel industry.

But writing too much about protectionism will make me sound like Idlan (:P) so I will harp on about the image that the word ‘fugitive socks’ conjures. Haha! A fugitive sock! Or terrorist sock! I keep imagining rogue socks with beards, arriving at the shores after 3 nights spent crouching in a boat compartment, a little dazed from sudden sunlight, but the words of their leader (also a sock with heavier beard, holding an AK47) resonate through their minds like bells. Sock martyrs. Sock cell leaders. All go into the market and blend in seamlessly with the US socks, scheming the next sock invasion.

Idlan and I pondered that whenever we lose a sock, does it mean it has been kidnapped by the CIA and now being tortured for information?

My poor futsal socks! I wonder what scary fate lies for them now.


Ohoo, almost 9 now! Masa untuk mandi!


I am a little giddy with excitement this morning. More on this when I’m given the permission to blab.

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