the point of the title to this post is to lament my total lack thereof, rather than extol the virtues of stoicism.

the pain, acid, nausea, all of it, came rushing back this morning. my throat burns, my stomach burns, my oesophagus burns. i cannot down enough ice water in my desperate urgency to sooth the burning, if only for a while.

and here i thought i was making good progress with my ultra-disciplined diet. i might as well have had all the coffee i wanted for all the difference it made.

and as always, when the proverbial shit hits the proverbial fan… all i can do is crawl into bed and hug myself. curse the chain-smoking neighbor. run the angel-devil movie in my mind (you know, the one where angel goes, oh you poor thing… and devil goes, this is all your own doing! your punishment for [insert random gastritis-inducing activity]…) stare at phone. shut phone. stare at phone. curse. loop all the above till sleep comes. mercy.

what they say about women being made strong enough to endure the pain of childbirth – i don’t know about that. i must have been made wrong, somehow.

the rain came down in sheets just as i stepped out of my room to get a cup of hot chocolate (or cocoa au lait, as it is elegantly labeled) from the vending machine at the lobby. i wish it would thunder as well, just to match my somewhat mutinous feelings right now.

the pain and reflux returned with a vengeance last night, for reasons i am not aware of, unless red peppers are also meant to be on the taboo list. i spent the night in bed, ravaged by pain and burping red peppers mixed with acid, and wallowing in self-pity. so much for a perfect day.

it all went on till this afternoon, and i had to plead off from choir rehearsal and a concert i had paid close to 40 bucks for. still, i must confess i wasn’t too sorry. these days, singing with others does not give me the same thrill that it used to, and it is such hard work dragging myself to all sorts of different parts of tokyo every sunday. i cannot quite put my finger on the reasons behind my lack of motivation – the music? the people? the money involved…?

losing something that used to be such a significant part of my life makes me feel rudderless. some days, i ache to feel that sense of satisfaction i get from simply warming up and being able to reach all the way to a high g; from getting a difficult interval right; from hearing how seemingly unrelated notes mesh together as if they were born to do so. singing in a choir, and singing alone at my voice class, used to make me so happy i did feel, literally, like i could burst.

these days, i cannot seem to feel the music with my heart anymore. i become frustrated, annoyed, dislike the way i sound, dislike the foreign sounds around me… there are many days when i croak out a sumimasen on the train and realize that i have not so much as uttered a word for days. it is so strange, this disconnection with sounds, with music, with myself.

i often say that i would hate to become one of those people to whom life is a vale of tears; who cannot stop whining; who is constantly depressed and seeking sympathy. but sometimes, when i stop to read through my blog entries, i see how dangerously close i hover to becoming just that, and jump back in alarm. i see that there is a lot more i could take into my own hands and i want to, i want to. i want to make so much more of my opportunities and the little talents i have. i want to pepper my days with tiny moments of pleasure; multiply those perfect days of mine exponentially. but why is it so much easier to slip into that rut of self-pity?

i spent the better part of yesterday on the bed in a fit of anaemic dizziness, and could not even roll around to comfort myself because the slightest movement meant contending with nausea and a spinning room.

so i had to be contented with keeping my eyes tightly shut, and entertaining myself with strange dreams about going home and meeting the newest member of the choir – a female, in the bass section.

woke up this morning to yet another day of gloomy rains and chill, a headache, and still more nausea. i wish it would stop raining already.

but what against? i cannot quite tell.

since yesterday, i have been expelling… things… excessively from my body. i also have a fever, and a head that pounds mercilessly with just about every single movement i make. i am sure i have no bodily fluids left, and at this rate, will have no brain cells left soon either. i cannot imagine boarding a plane 9 days from now and leaving home for 3 years – i do not have a suitcase as of today, my belongings lie in cheerful disarray all around the room, i have no cash to bring with me… what a state i am in. i might laugh if i didn’t feel like throwing up everytime my lips parted.

i am worried that i will not get to sing for a long, long while. i am afraid that i will feel like an incredible loser once i step into class and hear all the clever japanese being slung around the room. i fear that my body will not hold up and i will return before long, sickly and defeated.

i am, right now, at my most petulant. i would stamp my feet if anyone would take notice… but mostly, i just want to lie down and forget life for a while.

i thought i really might die when i woke up this morning to an unending coughing fit, as my body worked feverishly to expel all the phlegm blocking up its airways. but the body does not give out quite as easily as i had thought (doesn’t it?). all i had needed was some good medicine and much sleep, so i gave up working and did just that.

it feels as if our brief respite in cruel heat is over before it even started. we haven’t had much rain, and the nights are warm again. those lulling breezes so reminiscent of fall are now, once again, warm puffs of air… everything in singapore seems to be pulling me back and making me homesick way before i am due to leave. yesterday, the choir sang bunga sayang, and incapitated as i was (voice-wise, that is), i listened for the first time without singing along. they sang well, and it brought up a surge of nostalgia. strange isn’t it? how one can feel homesick even at home.

i never used to really experience homesickness in all those years in japan, and i don’t want to start now. it can hamper, and i cannot let anything get in the way of what i need to achieve there.

i am feeling particularly miserable today, and will selfishly parade around in all my tragedy queen airs.

i don’t think any flu has been as misery-causing as this one (but i say that all the time). my nose and my throat are in one accord as far as phlegm color and volume are concerned… and my head, unable to handle the erratic behavior of its subordinates, has decided to shut down. if only we were all equipped with spare generators, like those buildings in places that frequently experience power outtages.

oh if only.

i am rather aghast at the turn the flu has taken, after spending an entire day ejecting blood… blood! from my nose and clutching my chest in pain as the hacking cough went on and on and on. and all the while attempting to make a decent book out of somebody’s idea of primary one maths.

age really does take you by surprise, and gives you no chance to retaliate or say nay. the flu never used to kill me like this, incapitating me for days on end, rendering every type of medicine – vile chinese concoctions and bitter western pills alike – ineffective, making life such a wretched business because… well, a person’s gotta do what a person’s gotta do – work, work, work. i want to know where all this phlegm comes from, penetrating my sinuses and my lungs overnight - surely this can’t be legal??

meanwhile, the too-loud radio from somewhere downstairs, or upstairs, won’t stop playing cheesy chinese music without any tune whatsoever (or perhaps it is like one of those one-note-wonder pop songs). i am hungry but cannot eat, and the news continue to be bad no matter which part of the world you’re looking at.

err… happy new year, anyone?

waking up ten minutes ago with a sore throat so bad i could not sleep, i prowled the house, gurgled with salt water, and sat down to work with the tissue box parked next to me.

i hate having the flu.

went to bed with a fever and the shivers, praying to be well enough to work, at least, when i next wake up. alas, the vain optimism that (all too often) fails us! my head pounds, my nose leaks, and my throat… my throat! is facing a fate too dismal to be recorded for posterity.

but work i must; i must work. and think twice, thrice, before overdosing on red wine again.

it’s awful being unable to control your life like this. to wake up and see the world spin around you, and feel your stomach churning, churning, churning. i don’t know what to do. i can’t work. i can’t watch tv. i can’t sing. i can’t eat. hell, i can’t even really move. urgh.

i haven’t awaken from the drunken stupor that i fell into somewhere between japan and singapore. everything seems to be getting worse just as it seemed to be getting better. after having spent a mini bomb on what they call a specialist, the cough seems to have made up its mind to remain lodged in my lungs. every single day passes by in a blur of sleeping, wheezing, failed medication, and failed attempts to work and get my act together. everything fell apart today – i fended off translation requests at 6.30am, extreme nausea from 8.40am, and could neither move nor look at any moving text or images all the way till late afternoon. a tetchy agent could not care less that i could barely sit up and insisted that her work be completed today. work, i might add, that i did not even commit to.

i write this while listening to dionne warwick’s alfie on loop. for no special reason, really. it is just one of those sort-of-comforting yet sort-of-sad songs that bear listening to over and over again when you are sick and tired. her voice smacks of monochrome tv, hot tea, and childhood heartaches… the perfect blend of angst for nights like these.

but there are always things to laugh about.

i received a bill from japan that asked me to “make sure the amount of money we have demanded is correct.” my aunt sent an email-load of funny ‘japlish’ signs, and a friend sent another mail choke full of dumb blonde jokes that had me laughing as hard as my rapidly disintegrating body would allow.

here’s one of those jokes:

while looking at a house, my brother asked the estate agent which direction was north because, he explained, he didn’t want the sun waking him up every morning. she asked, ‘does the sun rise in the north?’ when my brother explained that the sun rises in the east, and has for some time, she shook her head and said, ‘oh, i don’t keep up with that stuff.’

but the real nugget is this video that another friend sent.

yes, there’s always something to laugh about.