There it was; the two-week mark had come and passed. I'd meant to sit down and to type an entry about how time had zipped by, how being back felt good, and how the Easter break had gone by without my notice because I'd been totally distracted by the 300some kilos of stuff in cardboard boxes just sitting in my room. Getting started on each skyscraper of cardboard was so daunting I'd resolved not to buy more books and clothes (unless absolutely necessary) in the next year.

We - me and my books - made a pact the other day: they'd sit neatly on newly cleared shelf space if I'd take them out to read for around thirty minutes each day. Fulfilling my side of the pact made good sense, especially since I'd resolved, earlier this year, to read more non-fiction. If I failed to keep the pact - so we'd agreed - the books were allowed to walk around and settle, as they are wont to do, in haphazard piles on the floor. The books, varied as they were, grinned at each other because we both knew there was nothing they liked better than to make me have to tiptoe around and amongst them while navigating my room.



Logistical nightmare, though, the move back was, I'm glad for the experience (and accompanying bragging rights) under my belt. I'd come back for a variety of reasons, obviously; but mostly, I'd been dying - but afraid to jinx my chances if I spoke too much about it - to work with this company. Having been on tenterhooks since I applied from Melbourne, I was over the moon to finally heave a sigh of relief, grin and start busying myself with the kinds of lunches I'd bring to work.

Meals out recently have not exactly been kind on the pocket; a week ago I had a plate of rice with three sides (fish, greens and tofu) at a food court that cost an exorbitant SGD4.60. What WHAT?! Forgive me, I had no idea: I'd only just got back here. I'll learn; I'll show you. But I weigh my options: what's baby spinach, cheddar, quince paste and pancetta from the deli going to cost? Perhaps... perhaps I'll try it out for a week, compare costs and then evaluate my preferences.



Being back has been good (profuse perspiration notwithstanding). As a show of good faith, Mr. Grasshopper came to pay me a visit yesterday afternoon. "Are you lost, sir," I'd asked, concerned, "how did you hop up the roof? Can you fly?" for I was curious how he came to be so far removed from blades of grass. But Mr. Grasshopper was sunbathing. Apparently he had come here for a reason, and he was decidedly oblivious to unwelcome queries about his choice of transportation and destination.