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farked by destiny
I've been doing quite a lot of thinking about my job. Mainly whether I'm truly enjoying it.It's kinda eating my health away. Close friends would have known how much my body has weakened since I took on this job. Some days I slack like a taitai, other days I work with almost no sleep. And it's crazy. Overseas trips would eat half my life and spit the remaining half corpse-like body back to the doctors in Singapore to scratch their heads over the mysterious illness I'm plagued with. So the many days when I'm not prancing around like a taitai, sucks.Then stuff happens - like when I can't balance my ledger sheet. One time too many. Unless the gahmen decides I could do whatever damn thing I want with my CPF, I'd need to think of ways to mend the f-king arsehole I've created. I'm not good with the printed notes. Seriously. Like I have a damn big problem with it; I have to let it out of my sight. I cannot touch it. I must not have anything to do with it. Otherwise, I'd just lose it. Which, did happened. But I take
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