Suicide Mondays
"Welcome to the real world," she said to me, condescendingly.
"Take a seat, take your life ...Plot it out in black and white" - from the John Mayer song "No Such Thing"
There is a special corner of loathing in my heart reserved for Mondays. Days when I bob between feeling suicidal and feeling homicidal. Days at the end of which I feel so bruised and weary, dealing with non-stories and sugar-coated threats from outsiders. "Rough day" doesn't begin to describe it.
These are times when I fall back on Jo's Law of Averages. And it works too. In her view, a slow news week must be followed by the mother of all crises. Like this week's. "See? It all averages out," she beams, gulping down her lunch in 10- minutes to rush down and watch the Thai news.
For me, it means the rest of the week is filled with enough true journalism and smart conversations to, um, last me till the next Suicide Monday.
We all live for the adrenaline rush of a biggie. You know it when you hear the news and, in the thrill of the chase, forget how tired and hungry you are. You dissect, you distill, you weave it into something worth reading. That, my dear, is journalism.
I was in the middle of Raffles Place yesterday and the billboard speakers started to blast John Mayer's No Such Thing. It brings back so many memories of uni, of five people eating pizzas past midnight and throwing up random ideas so that one of us can be the first to solve a game theory riddle, doesn't matter who.
It is also one song that hits the spot for me, one song that if you are feeling blue about the real world, only serves to make you clinically depressed. I stood there and felt my eyes turn bleary.
"Take a seat, take your life ...Plot it out in black and white" - from the John Mayer song "No Such Thing"
There is a special corner of loathing in my heart reserved for Mondays. Days when I bob between feeling suicidal and feeling homicidal. Days at the end of which I feel so bruised and weary, dealing with non-stories and sugar-coated threats from outsiders. "Rough day" doesn't begin to describe it.
These are times when I fall back on Jo's Law of Averages. And it works too. In her view, a slow news week must be followed by the mother of all crises. Like this week's. "See? It all averages out," she beams, gulping down her lunch in 10- minutes to rush down and watch the Thai news.
For me, it means the rest of the week is filled with enough true journalism and smart conversations to, um, last me till the next Suicide Monday.
We all live for the adrenaline rush of a biggie. You know it when you hear the news and, in the thrill of the chase, forget how tired and hungry you are. You dissect, you distill, you weave it into something worth reading. That, my dear, is journalism.
I was in the middle of Raffles Place yesterday and the billboard speakers started to blast John Mayer's No Such Thing. It brings back so many memories of uni, of five people eating pizzas past midnight and throwing up random ideas so that one of us can be the first to solve a game theory riddle, doesn't matter who.
It is also one song that hits the spot for me, one song that if you are feeling blue about the real world, only serves to make you clinically depressed. I stood there and felt my eyes turn bleary.
posted by Erica Tay at 1:34 PM
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