Sweat, rain, etc

I awoke at 5:30 this morning, in the middle of a rainstorm. Singapore is very organised, so if it rains in the morning then it seldom rains again that day, but frankly I’d have preferred not to miss out on any of that lovely sleep that I’d been hankering for. The rain wouldn’t let up and so it was pointless to attempt to return to sleep; instead I sat by the bed, stewing with rage at the conference call I knew I had tonight at 11. I’m getting too old to cope with burning the candle at both ends, and it’s worse if it’s being lit by things out of your control.

With all the rain I didn’t feel like running, but it was too early to go to the office, so instead I turned on the Xbox and had it tell me to do calisthenics until I was a broken and sweaty man. That took around 15 minutes, though in one of the rank injustices that I feel my body perpetrates upon me, I didn’t stop sweating for an hour afterwards. I soaked through two shirts before I even left the house.

Now, this isn’t to deprecate the miracle of the Kinect Fitness game on the Xbox. It’s wonderful that I can have a workout in my underpants – few gyms would ever allow that – but it’s certainly aggravating to find your sweat glands are shower proof. I feel especially sorry for the poor people who have to work with me.

I got to work and discovered my 11pm conference call was postponed by a week, which filled me with good cheer. I still had several sales calls to take, from a rabble of salesmen who were all in love with the sounds of their voices. Yes, that is probably a requirement in the profession, but I now feel no guilt in pointing out to them that the PowerPoint presentations they’ve all sent me are the generic and uninteresting, when I think they all thought a slide showing massive potential profits would be the most inventive and surprising thing I’d ever look upon. It’s hardly Ozymandius, is it?

I went home. I went for a run. After the morning’s Xbox brutality, that was just as hard as I should have expected. I came back, conked out, watched Super, a poor facsimile of Kick-Ass (with much more gore) and then read a hundred pages of The Black Isle, which is a novel that I can’t make up my mind about, but which has a tight grip upon me.

And so to bed.


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