Restored Post
Whee. On Tuesday I got 2 extras.
The first was because I booked out on Monday when I wasn't supposed to. In layman's terms, AWOL, I supposed. So maybe it wasn't such a good idea to stack Saturday duty and Sunday confinement, since I wouldn't have been entitled to book out on Monday's Off-In-Lieu. Thankfully, I got off rather lightly, with 1 extra.
The other extra was for 2 relatively minor mistakes. The Battalion was having Movie Night, so the Medics went to do work at the Medical Centre. Andrew decided to teach us the Emergency Drill, and we had a simulated casualty. After it all however, I forgot to keep the casualty's docket, and accidentally dumped the blood test register into the bin because it was on the same clipboard as a casualty log sheet that was to be thrown away.
I'm starting to cease being fazed by the extras. 3 in 8 days. Wah. If you count the confinement, 4 days burnt in 13 days. My favourite signaller thinks that I sounded absent minded, as if something was on my mind. Maybe. Maybe I should brood when I'm not on duty. Or find a way to infect myself with sleeping sickness and wake up on the 12th of June 2004, hopefully less incompetent than now. I envy Ooi, who has been on MC since his hand operation 3-4 weeks ago.
I am very confused by the whole system of applying to go overseas. I suspect that this is deliberate, done to discourage servicemen from travelling abroad. As it stands now, I think I could've stayed in Melbourne for 1 day more, but at this point I've accepted the fact that the SAF will try all means to drain the meagre 14 days that we are granted, and there's nothing we can do about it.
The words of one sergeant in BMT come to mind: "You can only take leave when the SAF wants you to".
As long as I get out of this prison called Singapore, even for a short 4 days, I'll be happy.
Now and then, I'm being affected by mood swings again. Oddly enough, the happiest I felt Tuesday was during Unarmed Combat, as I revelled in the sheer mindlessness of it all. Of course it didn't hurt that the stretching wasn't as painful as my first UC lesson - my muscles didn't hurt yesterday and aren't hurting now.
The rest of the day I was rather stressed. I think I'm over reacting, and jumping at shadows. I couldn't really put my finger on why I was so on edge. I wonder if anyone notices, or cares. The only one who notice my tension was James, who commented that I looked very stressed. Maybe I am proceeding towards the last of the three fates - Dead, Broken or Crazy - that I always thought would befall me during this time. Looking at the dogs frolicking outside the Medical Centre was quite uplifting, though.
Interestingly enough, my rash of bad luck and stress seemed to have come just as Folie departed for Lion Company. Hmm.
I am rather happy that I don't seem to be dispersing my stress towards others though, like my mother always does.
I suppose I should be happy for the little things - for one (valid) reason or another, of the 3 or 4 RT sessions I've been scheduled for, I've not gone for a single one yet.
As expected, my pictures of Asian Prince weren't very well received.
"[On my pasting of 3 Asian Prince photos on a cupboard] I am racist... You like men, put a picture of [a] Chinese man, I don't mind. You go and put an Indian... If you want you [should] put it on the ceiling... In the middle of the night, 'There's something looking at me'"
Some of them said I was er3 xin1 :)