I enjoyed the bus journey looking out of the window, until I crossed the bridge and saw the huge sign that flashed Welcome to Singapore. My heart sank with a sense of impending doom, and I wished for a moment it would sink into the depths of the Tebrau Strait and take with it all the misery.
Right. That was horrible descriptive writing.
I called my parents in Alor Star and my uncle in KL to tell them I arrived safely. And then I texted Emile. The poor girl spent Christmas in Singapore carolling with NJ choir. Haha.
Hearing from your friends somehow lifts your spirits. She told me the hostel was a mad house at the moment, with everyone moving in, moving out, changing rooms. I actually smiled.
This is my life, I thought. The good hostel life. Where we wake up each morning and trudge up the slope to school. Where we queue up for dinner in the dining hall, clad in oversized tees and slippers, clutching brown meal trays, debating whether to take meal A or meal B. Where we kick ourselves everytime we forget to send laundry on laundry days. Where I try hard to shut out the noise when I’m studying and sleeping.
This is one last year of grey uniforms (and moods) and bright red PE shorts. Maybe, maybe, I’ll savour it a little bit more than I did last year.
And before I forget, my change of address:
Hwa Chong Boarding School
673 Bukit Timah Road,
Due to certain complications I’m still stuck in a 4 bedder room. Shucks.