whapakk.

I haven’t been really myself the whole week. The two-week trip outside the country has left me stressed out and hung over; add to that the workload that has to be attended to and the reality that this is where I work, and this is where I belong.

Bonifacio High Street.

Thursday I tried to shuffle things up a bit and get back into the lifestyle I’m so used to (read: Mag:net Cafe High Street, where S.P.I.T. performed back-to-back with an acoustic sing-along program). It wasn’t the same. I still felt like I had to shake off the chains that binds me from the kind of focus I really need right now. It came to the point when I really wanted to pick a fight with someone at the bar just because he looked like he’s looking for one.

Friday wasn’t much. I missed chicken inasal, so I had one of my favorite meals for dinner last night. It tasted different, for some reason. (I could have been better satisfied by some more of that durian pancakes Tim treated us too on our first day in KL.)

Chicken Inasal.

I walked around Bonifacio High Street and Eastwood City for photos, but it made me miss Singapore. It was much, much different. Last night’s photo walk was depressing instead of exciting. I just wasn’t in the mood. And it didn’t help that it was Chicosci up on stage last night. I never liked the band, and yet I forced myself to walk around the perimeter and try to take photos of them screaming their lungs out.

Chicosci live at Eastwood City

So, I don’t know. I have to revive my passion for work come Monday. (Have I just been too angry the past few days?)

Wagyu Stone Grill at Eastwood Mall.