At last, my SPM trials have ended, save one subject that requires no revision—EST. I’m really sick of it, dull, monotonous, boring, dreary, wearisome. No, not because I have to stick my nose into a book 24-7, I’m just fed up about it. I don’t feel like revising, but I have to pretend to be reading all the same…so I wouldn’t feel guilty of relaxing if the results turn bad. Exams used to be a challenge, an effective potion that would keep me on my toes and sustain me through 5-hour nights, but not anymore. I now depend on my attentiveness in class and whatever I have in my memory to scrape through. Ah, I shall see whether this is working when the results come out…enough talking about it.

Besides the horrible exams, it does not help that I have been attacked recently, not by one attacker, but TWO.
The first, and greater one,being my brother.

It all started last week when Eugene woke up to the sight of his target happily whacking away at the computer keys at eight in the morning. He had been ticked off by dad last night because he was playing Pikachu or some other stupid action game on the computer. And he was simply incensed by the fact that I could use the computer without being yelled at by mum and dad.

Alright, so I had to compromise, as usual, switch off the computer, and seek refuge in my room while he howled, shrieked, and shouted at mum and dad for “unjust parenting”.

Mum and dad diverted his attention that day and spared me the brunt of his rage, but I was soon in his bad books again—I drank water from his cup after he told me not to. Teeny-weeny mistake of no significance,in my opinion, but he blared up…like a storm! He punched me twice, and commanded me in a booming voice to wash his cup with soap and refill the water for him!

Really. Look at what kind of treatment I get. And to think he calls me his elder sister.

That was yesterday. Today, I was harassed by a different breed of assailants—ants. My goodness! These creepy crawlies were all over me during my physics paper. They were interfering with my pen, dancing on my papers, running up and down my arm, and many got inside my shirt. Ugh. As a result, I spent half of my time killing ants, and the next half scribbling out my answers. I must have killed some thirty ants. Still, I have no idea where they came from and more importantly, I have totally no idea why they would choose to attack me.

Just hope it’s not due to the fact that mum just gave me a new quilt yesterday—with black ant motives all over it.

Well, I’ll just believe the ants were attracted to my sweetness, since I’ve been so sweet to bear with the blasted exams, and also Eugene The Evil. Hahaha…