It was not an optimal run at all. The conditions were also rather rubbish: it was indeed quite windy, and it really felt as if I had to work harder to run against the wind. Not to mention: I really hate the sound of the wind howling against my ears as I am running, almost drowning out my music. Thanks, Wind. It would be okay if you had an energetic beat a la Britney Spears, et. al., but you don't. All you do is howl and make me feel really cold and my eyes really dry, so it would be nice if you left me alone when I want to run.
I did my old route - the shorter one before I started running a bit further. On my way to the halfway mark of my route, a girl in a bright pink vest ran past me. As I started running back along the river, I saw her in the far distance, plugging away at her run in a steady pace, though I think she stopped at one point. Despite the slight ache in my chest and the cowardly voice in my head screaming at me to stop running, I decided that it would be a nice challenge to overtake her. She had a good head start on me; she was way ahead when I turned back after reaching my halfway mark, and she was already running in that direction when she passed me. As I chugged on, I noticed that the distance between me and her was slowly closing; and then I decided that I had to do it. Even if I ended up not running for 30 minutes and stopping before I reached my front door, I had to overtake her; and if I overtook her, then it would make up for my giving up on my run.
And so I kept going, and going, and going, almost gasping for breath, forcing myself to ignore the pain in my chest. I focused solely on the pink of her jacket and blocked out everything else. My strides widened, my arms swung faster, and then the pink passed by in a blur to my left.
Yesssss. Alas, I stopped a few seconds after that. I was really way too tired. The final stats were something like 25 minutes, and some lousy 200+ calories burned, but a pretty awesome pace of 5 mins and 40-ish seconds per km. Yay! Too bad it almost killed me. I'm not sure I can sustain this pace over a longer distance, and since I'm sick, I can't really find out just yet. What a pain.
Anyway. So I had lunch at home and talked to Billy over lunch. I found out a bit more about him, which was really nice. He's a really sweet boy. There's this sense of fragility about him that makes me feel rather protective of him. I hope he gets out of his funk soon.
I reached the law faculty at 2.20pm and after a small macchiato, which is my go-to poison of choice to inject artificial alertness into my sluggish brain, I finally sat down to work at 2.30pm. I pretty much did nothing but worked on this stupid multiculturalism shit I'd been writing since Monday, all the way until fucking 9.06pm. I am swearing because I wanted to finish it in a couple of hours and use the rest of the time to read an article, but no, it took me the whole fucking day. It's not even any good. Whatever; I'll send it to my supervisors tomorrow for preliminary comments, so as to be quite sure that I am not completely on the wrong track. I am also sick of writing so I will use the time in between sending them the draft and getting a response to do some reading.
Sometimes I am excited about my PhD but sometimes I'm not. When I'm not excited, I just feel like it's quite pointless. I obviously want my thesis to have an impact, but realistically, Singapore is what it is, isn't it? Still, as liberal as I am, I am also damn tired of ang mohs telling Singaporeans what we're doing wrong. The liberal critique of Singapore is so boring that I don't know why people even bother. The criticisms are so obvious that even saying them is blandly tautological (I actually wrote this in my NUS scholarship application). The challenge is to seriously engage with the communitarian claim, test its limits, reformulate it, figure out how rights can be conceived of in a non-liberal fashion. That is the crux of my PhD.
It sounds okay, but honestly, I don't know what I'm doing. I was just so drained at the end of the day, at 9.06pm, that I really felt a slight sense of dread at the thought of going to Sainsbury's before coming home to a bloody basement room in which I would be disturbed by the sound of footsteps from the room upstairs for at least an hour. It also did not help that Dominic was MIA for pretty much the whole day, and I was annoyed that he was MIA. It was therefore a good thing that he eventually replied, even if it was almost 10 hours later.
I was contemplating whether to make my annoyance known, and decided that I would say something if he didn't reply by midnight. Of course, his past behaviour gave me no reason to think that he wouldn't at least say good night; he made it a point to do so when I was in Singapore, almost every night without fail. I guess I was feeling sufficiently restless that I was actually annoyed at something quite trivial. Nonetheless, in my reply to him, I passive-aggressively said, 'I'm glad you had a good time [at work dinner, etc]; at least you have an excuse for being MIA the whole day. :)'
I WILL STRIVE TO BE A BETTER PERSON. I think there's no point in telling him to do x because it would just put unwarranted pressure on him to do x and on my expectation on him to do x, and if/when he doesn't do x, I'm just going to be rather disappointed. What's the point of that? I should just be chill, and so I will.
Tennis at 9.30am! It's gonna be cold, but at least it will be sunny.
I'm picking up my copy of Julian Barnes' new book tomorrow. I CAN'T WAIT!