I woke up this Sunday late again

Finally, he woke me up at 1pm today, from the nightmares I was having from my drug-cocktail induced sleep.



[Saturday night, I resurrected the painkillers NUH A&E doctor prescribed to me previously - Tramadol - upon my realisation that they were still edible as the expiration date was in 2007. These were for my gastric pains that refused to go away no matter how much Famodine I was ingesting by Saturday. I still had a headache, but there was not a single trace of paracetamol left save for one singular Panadol Extra. I ate it. I was also having allergies, hence I took Piriton, my antihystemines for night].



Nightmares or none, I would have continued sleeping if C did not wake me for lunch. My first waking thoughts were: What if I was seriously ill, and I could no longer teach my kids which I do on weekends (barely when I am this sick)? I thought of measures to take to find another tutor good enough for them. My thoughts rested on Jiahui, as I know not many can teach English and Geography well. In the end, I told myself, heck the pain, and just go, I teach sitting down anyway, and I am already better with the Tramadol application last night.



We had lunch at Hoe Nam Prawn Mee at Macpherson. It was, good - C and I ate our own bowls of noodles without exchanging a word, silences throughout most of the lunch-ingestation. This is the relationship we each have with food - utter enjoyment, with a companion beside.



My nightmares revolved around death, not mine but of others around me. I had dreamt up almost everyone I knew in my life, from primary school time till today. We were all in a room, a second floor of an old shophouse, really old and not modern kitschy-like, more like the ones along Mackensie Road than along Seah Street. This bunch of everybody I know, was gathered in a small room, too small, and we were supposed to take a picture together. But the photographer somehow screwed up the organisation of the group together and it became so chaotic. Like a civilised, educated stampede about to happen. Suddenly, from the balcony, demonic monsters of sorts came from nowhere - and we were all about to die! We ran like, mad, like, really mad, at least I did. I tried to retrieve my friends from different parts of the shophouse, even outside, because the monsters' presence was already burgeoning outside of the shophouse before long.



In my dream, I went back to the place, long after this monster-chase died down, and I found out, some of my friends died in that shophouse. There are more details, my dreams are too vivid for a lazy descriptive writer like me. But I remember, that I saw from the windows to the shophouse, a blood-stained brown handkerchief hanging inside, and the lights and fans were still switched on, just like that night when this happened.



Eerie ain't it. I wonder what it means, or perhaps it was merely the result of too much medication in one stomach, one night.



Had Tramadol again tonight, so, here my night ends, before some early morning laundry, and work. I hope all turns out ravishingly well tomorrow - its all yours, God.