Agent Cockroach Diaries

There's so much to write about, so little time to do it...... a short reflection of how life has pan out to become for most of us. We have been complaining about how 24hrs never seemed enough but how much would suffice?

As I have aptly put it, everyday seems to be a mad-rush for me, busy fighting the wild grazes and bush fires igniting around me. From the very first minute I step into the office to the late hours into the evening as I leave the grounds of earlier pandemonium behind, there seems to be no respite. Lunch-hour bears no meaning as I have found myself forming the main line of cannon fodder for the infinite barrage of phone calls. How I wish I can be able reject being some make-shift receptionist for the ungrateful feasting away on their plate of duck rice or hot bowl of laksa which I have since forgotten the warmth and taste of during mid-day. The choice to skip lunch during regular hours was in fact a conscious choice in an effort to level heap of work piling but all seems futile.

Beyond the helter skelter and into the domain of deep thoughts, the one question stood out like a sore thumb, have I lost my way or have found direction in fact..... Though the mess can be unbearable and inexplicably distressing and hurting my inner-self but yet this pain has not been the excruciating experience as it should be. I must be a sucker for punishment as I seem to enjoy this self-inflicted wound of sorts. Perhaps it is but a threshold to endure before I can finally gain admission into warm arms that await me within the gates which still remain shut. Sanctuary here I come.