Beauty and Brat

Happy pretty things

Happy pretty things

A colleague of mine does nail art as a hobby and these ‘happy pretty things’ are a result of her handiwork and craftsmanship! This design is a huge leap for me – my previous first two designs were on a subtle base shade of pink. I am not a fan of pink, but I suppose when it comes to nail art, I would rather something sweet and less conspicuous than something that ‘pops’. These pretty little things are made up of quirky triangles of varied colours – a sweet melancholy blue, mint green, coral pink, light pastel pink and dark wood brown. C’s a real star! She dresses my nails and takes really good patient care of them. :)

Now I realised I sound quite snobbish in my previous few posts – I am not sure what the cause of it is, only certain that I am becoming less tolerable to live with as a person. Not only do I live in my own space, I am terrible at covering up my annoyance and frustration when I am unhappy. I become such a drab to be around, sour and unpleasant. Today at our family’s CNY lunch, I could not help but pull a long face and look absolutely serious to be around. ‘You don’t smile.’ My aunt say, almost to my annoyance. It was just difficult for me to get past the fact that for half an hour I travelled in a vehicle that travelled at 110km/h along the expressway  to get to our destination. Accidents always seem so far away until they happen – and for someone who had ever been in an accident, the risk of being in a car crash is no joke. They have taught me to appreciate drivers who drives with care and takes care not to speed or put themselves and their passengers in risky road situations.

I also almost got into an argument with the uncle selling coffee at the hawker centre downstairs earlier this evening. He came along and bellowed at how I was standing there without placing my order and essentially holding up the queue (only there was no queue, and I wasn’t complaining about the wait because the other lady at the counter was busy counting money). Usually when I get yelled at, I tend to avoid a confrontation and give the other party the benefit of doubt – maybe he had a bad day, maybe he misunderstood… But today, I actually raised my voice and explained with much irritation that I had called out my order, only that I observed that they were busy, so I was waiting for them to get ready to take my order. I actually found myself getting really mad at the display of disrespect, almost to the point of wanting to give up my drink and demand for my money back. (What a brat, really.)

Maybe it is time to look for a detox option. Exercise, personal time alone, an avenue to read and write.

 

 

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