The night is too young.

I'm home. At 11pm, after training.

There's something wrong here. I shouldn't be home. I find myself not knowing what to do. It seems strange that I'm home at this time.

But well, thanks to the Mother, here I am. A good girl.

I have nothing much to blog about, I realise. I guess I'm suffering from literary constipation. I can't seem to want to type out long, lengthy descriptions of things I have discovered in my everyday life.

A theory could be that my mundane life is too boring these days, hence the lack of epiphanies. But then again, I honestly beg to differ. With the IVP season in full swing, school coming around and the other things, be it large or small, that has been happening around me, I can say my life is still swingin'. What's not to treasure, when this is the official last semester of the Singapore education system for me? Michael R.I.P Jackson couldn't have summed it up better. THIS is it.

By the end of August, the square hat would have been tossed high into the air. That's what we all live for, don't we? Here we are, every few years, fighting tooth and nail for a place in the most prestigious academies and schools, just so that we can inch our way closer and closer to a university degree. And once we've gotten that degree, that's all there is to it.

Even though I do believe that the working world is probably more exciting that what we give credit for, I still dread its beckoning. Life will be reduced to weekends, and weekends will be eaten into for that award-winning pitch/video/campaign. And by the time you know it, you'll be having awkward matchmaking dinners with SDU members as you try to force yourself to think that you've still got the charm when you are, in fact, the resident office bitch/old virgin.

Hey, I'm just trying to hope for the best but expect the worst.

Before you suck me dry, worklife, I'm gonna make my last semester count.