HTM

This is so weird.

I just woke up from a dream in which I was at Charlie Trotter's with my parents and brothers. Vivid enough that things were awkward as my parents realised how much the meal would cost, the tiny portions of each course, things like that. There was even a little argument over who would pay the bill. I was doing a comparison of the size of the bill and my salary, deciding that I could afford to pick up the cheque, but getting this idea swatted down by my dad, who wanted to retain his position as chief money dispenser. Now that I think about it, the entire dream was quite realistic, to the point where it mirrors what I would imagine an actual evening at Trotter's with my family would be like. It's fading now, but I could have given you a blow-by-blow account of each course and the conversations with the waiter over the three hour meal. I don't usually have such realistic dreams.

Well, ok, the last course was pizza from Milano's. That tipped me off that it was a dream. Although it's not inconceivable that one of the more avant-garde chefs might produce some interpretation of pizza as part of a hoity-toity meal. After all, Wolfgang Puck did make a career out of smoked salmon pizza. And yes, that was what was going through my mind in the dream.

I think the pizza was probably just a manifestation of too much pizza in real life, and a good dose of nostalgia. I recall Milano's as being among the first pizza delivery places in Singapore, which I rather liked. So I'm busy longing for the more relaxed days of college, and this reached back a bit too far and pulled a memory from an additional fifteen years back.

Which brings me to the topic of work. It bites. Have to wake up early every day, then actually work for 10, 12 hours. Not grunt work either. We get a lot done in those 10 hours. Tiring as hell. At least the company's making money. Should make for a decent bonus if I can stick it out long enough to warrant one. And if I don't lose ten million dollars and get fired.