So incredibly sick of my life.

I'll go out on Monday. I'll work on Saturday, I'll work on Sunday, but I promise on Monday I will take a day off, go shopping, walk around, have fun.

That was what I promised to myself. Saturday was spent largely correcting a groupmate's work (I shouldn't even be calling him groupmate. I should call him the Assignment Wrecker From Hell.). Sunday still spent correcting his work. Back and forth for tens of times till I told him to just give me the fucking raw data, I'll do it myself.

Today's Monday. I couldn't finish my work yesterday so I came again to the office. I wanted to lie in this morning, but I thought, I won't, because I will go to the office, finish the assignment, then go out with my officemate Kristy. So I reached the office at 9:30am. No aircond. Couldn't breathe. Need to finish the assignment. Need to get out. Work. Work then you can get out.

I didn't go have lunch. The nearest canteen takes a 20minute walk because all the nearer ones are closed, because it's a public holiday. Kristy went. I stayed. I had cereal. Need to finish the assignment. Never mind, just have the cereal, you can have a big meal in the evening. Aircond came back at 1pm. It was good. I persevered.

Circa 3pm I was still working. Hate the assignment. There are no findings. Why am I writing a paper that has no findings, that has no contribution to the academic world? Why am I writing this dead end paper when I should be working on something more meaningful? Why am I still. fucking. in. the. office.

4pm I told Kristy that we should leave at 5pm. She said OK let's work harder to make it.

4:59 I sent the paper to my groupmates. I slumped, lifeless, soulless, on the desk. Kristy said, sorry, Jun-E. I don't think I can go. I slumped, lifeless, soulless, on the desk, and started to cry. Noiselessly.

5:37pm. Tears are still flowing down my cheeks. I weighed my options. I checked the cinemas, there are no shows on that I want to watch. I thought of going for a big dinner. But I don't want to eat alone. I thought of the journey to Boon Lay MRT, the journey to godknowswhere, the journey back. The masses of people. The queues. The stupid complexes. The bland food.

I thought of going back to the hostel. I thought of staying and working on another project. But my brain is entirely numb. I can't work anymore. I can't go anywhere. I can't do anything. I can't function anymore.

So this is how I spent my long weekend. I hate Singapore. I hate my life.