I was so early that I had time to make breakfast and read my travel book and leisurely take pretentious photos and paint my nails. Guess what I have the most time for: spilling my nail polish all over my kitchen floor!
So instead of being early for work, I had to stay back and clean up my stupid mess for fear that the stupid paint would sink into the floor and everything the damned paint hit. Thankfully my day off got approved.
Instead of crying over spilled paint (actually I didn't cry, I raged and screamed and grunted throughout the cleaning), I decided to make the most of my day by going back to one of my most torturous yoga studios: core werk at Shiva Yoga!
It was torture like I never remembered.
I tried my best to do each set to the end, pausing only at this v-shaped exercise set that were fucking killing my legs. I was sore as it is from aerial yesterday and I still had a hot yoga session after and I was so swamped with pain, I almost walked out on the class.
But I gritted my teeth and squeezed my eyes shut and continued on and I FINISHED IT:
My stomach doesn't look like that usally, it just happened to be right after a punishing core session. They came out to weep and then retreated back in.
Anyway, thanks to my extreme commitment to my ego, I refused to give up even though I was crying inside out from the back to back torture. This is potentially worse than what I endured at R-evolution and Singapore Calisthenics Academy. I am not exaggerating.
The day was still young so I headed to clear all my IPL sessions. One of them was Cosmosecuticals at Raffles Place and so I landed up here, on a busy afternoon.
More than anything else, I wanted to work here. I wanted to be part of that promising throng with their fancy clothes and tight dresses. I once said the CBD is where dreams come to die, but I always knew it was just my insufficiency talking.
Maybe one day.
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