I’ve decided to add a new category called “Ella’s Diary.” I used to write down my thoughts in a notebook but I’m too lazy to write and decided to type everything in Microsoft Office Word. I have to unload fast.
November 15, 2010
Woke up with a terrible sore throat. I heard my roommates scuttle as they move around the room preparing for their trip to Dubai. It’s the start of the Muslim’s Eid holiday and I suddenly realize how pathetic my work situation is, as always. I’m probably the only one in this flat who will be working on a holiday. Everyone’s either going to Dubai or someplace else, to celebrate this week long vacation.
I thought I won’t have a voice. My throat’s so painful I couldn’t stop coughing. I feel like I’m gonna be sick anytime. C noticed how bad my coughing was and told me to drink tea with ginger and lemon. All I had was tea. So she took a ginger out of her cupboard in the kitchen and peeled some pieces into my cup of tea. There was no lemon, she said, but it will still help ease my sore throat. There’s nothing like a good old home remedy. Now I was wondering, I’m a nurse but I couldn’t even treat my own sickness. I forgot to buy Strepsils yesterday.
I could smell the ginger in my tea and instantly I know I couldn’t drink it. But like a good little girl who obeys her Mom, I took a small sip. Hmmm, it’s not so bad after all.
I continued sipping my ginger tea watching my roommates prepare. They’ve rented a car. They were talking about their itinerary. Everyone was talking at the same time I decided to drown their voices by listening to some music instead. I’m not jealous that I’m not included. In fact, even if I don’t have work, I’d prefer to stay at home because I’m not feeling well. I was thinking of what I am going to do as soon as they leave. I don’t even feel like making some breakfast because I’m not hungry. So I just sat on my bed and stared into space.
Today is Dad’s birthday, if he was still alive. C said she didn’t know I have a deceased parent. I can feel her sympathy. Well I really don’t share much about my suppressed memories. Just when I was thinking about Dad, I heard Celine Dion’s version of Luther Vandross’ Dance with my Father on my laptop, then at the same time, my cell phone beeped and a message appeared on my calendar, “daddy’s birthday.” I couldn’t help but smile. Dad…of course I remember. I may have forgotten the date you decided to die, I might not have been there to visit your grave on All Soul’s day, but I do remember your birthday. I wonder how you are today if you were still alive.
My throat doesn’t seem so sore anymore. My roommates have long gone as I am writing this. Now I’m alone.
I just hope time would move fast so I could be at work.