Strictly not a work rant.

I havenā€™t been feeling very well. My job is starting to feel like a real job and Iā€™m having trouble adjusting. Itā€™s obviously just a phase, boo tells me that Iā€™m actually quite lucky compared to my peers. According to him, someone my age should be working till wee hours everyday, whereas for me it only happens once or twice a fortnight. I feel like work has taken over my life though, which is certainly not true although the spoilt brat part of me feels like that, feels like Iā€™m getting paid too little, feels like working on Saturdays is affecting my social life. Iā€™m such a hedonistic bitch, I need to sleep till afternoon on my weekends and have brunch at Ikea and shop/window shop. But I canā€™t do this on Saturdays anymore! What about Sunday, you ask me? Sunday is meant as a day to recover from all the naughty stuff youā€™ve done on Saturday!!!!

I guess Iā€™m just more prone to stress, which isnā€™t exactly a big secret. Iā€™m not built to handle stress, but my experience in my previous job has set the benchmark, so what Iā€™m going through now is really just a piece of cake. But like I said, thereā€™s this spoilt brat part of me that keeps whinging and complaining about overworking. Itā€™s really silly and I really hate this side of me.

Iā€™m not sure if this is a rant about work or just a post to remind myself that Iā€™m not having it bad. I donā€™t want to be a whinging spoilt brat who doesnā€™t mind losing out on learning experience just because she wants to have gravad lax on Saturdays. Itā€™s so lame, so pathetic. I want to chill. I want to be a grown-up.

I need another vacationā€¦zomg Kim, shut the fuck up!

Anyway, Iā€™ve been a psycho for the past 3 days due to this and hasnā€™t been kind to my boo.

    sunny^kimberly says:
    i dont care boo, tonight u must bring me to eat donuts

    BOO says:
    aww
    BOO says:
    ruuuuuuuuin meeeeeeee surprise
    sunny^kimberly says:
    huh
    sunny^kimberly says:
    what surprise?
    BOO says:

    thought on the way to work this morningā€¦.am gonna go to curve on the way home and buy donuts for me boo boo
    sunny^kimberly says:
    boooboooo
    sunny^kimberly says:
    i love u so much i wanna cry now

Sometimes, I feel like I donā€™t deserve this, you know.

Darling boo and me

My Poonā€™s First O & G Visit

Gasp.

For the uninformed, O & G stands for obstetrician and gynaecologist. Iā€™ve been putting off this incredibly important appointment for the longest time. Why? Lazy lor!

It took my Mom to set up an appointment for her (almost) 23 year old daughter. I was quite freaked out when Mom dropped the bomb over dinner. ā€œYeah, youā€™re going to see my gynae on xx May,ā€. Almost choked on my kailan. First thing that popped into my head, zomg my poonani! Second thing that popped into my head, the fact that the doctor, the male doctor, is going to see my Momā€™s poon AND my poon. Damn wrong okay.

I experienced pangs of nervousness for a month prior to the appointment. I also donā€™t know why I was so nervous, guess knowing that youā€™re going to drop your pants to a complete stranger does that to you. Will he judge my poon? Will my poon be up for judgement?

Just before I was to honour my appointment, I shaved.

MY LEGS, what were you thinking?

I wore my best pantiesā€¦black teddy with sequins on it. My crazy monkey cartoon panties will not see the light of day in the presence of strangersā€¦

The look of a pre-gynae. Iā€™m forever changed.

The clinic.

So I went there really early in the morning, like 7am. Momā€™s bent on being the first in queue, she calculated that we would be finished by 9.30am. Mom went in first. And then it was my turnā€¦

Momā€™s and daughterā€™s shaved legs.

I insisted on Mom to accompany me (omg Iā€™m such a baby, right?). I went in expecting to see a pair of shiny metal stirrups attached to a plush examination couch. There was none of those things. Thereā€™s only the doctor, his nurse and a flat, boring examination couch that has seen its better days. Wish I could take pictures, but I didnā€™t dare to ask my doctor. Maybe next time..

He interviewed me. When was my last period? Do I have discharge? How does the discharge look like? Am I sexually active? The usuals..

And then my most dreaded moment came. PAP SMEAR!!! Truth is, it doesnā€™t matter what panties you wear cause the doc wouldnā€™t care less. I took mine off and chuck it in a red plastic basket, prepared by the clinic for that purpose. Then I lied down on the examination couch, knees bent, spread eagle. Told Mom to stop peeping.

Doc chatted with me, probably in an attempt to relax me. He put some goo on my lower abdomen for ultrasound. He chatted to me some more, applied some lubricant to my poonani and then he stuck something in. Wriggled the thing a bit and pulled it out. The feeling couldnā€™t be any less pleasurable. I did really feel vaguely violated, definitely not looking forward to the next appointment.

After that I put on my clothes and chit chatted a bit with doc. Doc asked me, in front of my Mother, ā€œDo you use protection?ā€. GREATTTTTTTTT!!!

ā€œYeah, always,ā€

ā€œSure or not?ā€. Then he proceeded to rummage through his drawer for something.

ā€œRead this. Cover to coverā€.

Read this. Cover to cover.

Thank you doc!

We got out of there at 9.30am sharp.

p/s: Girls, do get your poon checked, when youā€™ve reached 18 or is sexually active, whichever comes firstā€¦ ;D