I had no intention to clock in another entry for the month of October, but the last two days have been overflowing with drama. I cannot resist.
We start off on Sunday night, with well-wishes from concerned parties over my last entry. I apologise for my emo-trip down memory lane. Anyways, Monday morning rolled around and I was hella stoned. So, for the better part of the morning, I just roamed around like a zombie. After breakfast, I was about to take off for Tekong when MISTER OHK (coming back from *his* breakfast with some of the bigwigs of AFC) stopped me in the middle of the road and demanded to know where I was going, and why I had no bags on me. After stumping him with my direct answer, Branch Head informed me that he was going to leave for Selarang Camp at around 1130 and thus offered me a ride to SFT. Being how I’m not a moron, I took Branch Head up on his offer. This opened the door for MISTER OHK to swoop in (after several moments of standing around like a dumbass) and start badgering me with all sorts of questions.
At the top of his list, was him wanting to know why I simply left the X-Ray on his table. I reminded OHK that *he* told me he wanted to see the fucking X-Ray. OHK then countered by stating he wasn’t a doctor — I WOULD NEVER HAVE GUESSED OTHERWISE DUH LOL — and that he couldn’t make any sense out of my X-Ray. Long story short, I told him I’d get the damn thing reviewed by the Medical Center as soon as possible. After that, the fat bastard wanted me to round up the members of next year’s Night Activity Committee for a meeting the next day. He insisted on a few personnel changes, and also blackmailed me into being on the fucking committee. Sodding hell. At any rate, 1130 soon rolled around, and I was on my way out of PLC with Branch Head driving a little too scarily for my tastes.
The drive down to SFT was not a boring one. Branch Head revealed some incredibly hilarious idiosyncrasies in his behaviour, and also asked a lot of revealing questions about what is going on in CCTW. He even asked what I didn’t like about the job. Again, I’m not an idiot; I know an opportunity when I see it, and therefore I seized this one to plant some seeds. Branch Head is a nice and practical guy. He may be a little bit psycho at times with his train of thought, but a nice guy nonetheless. I thanked him profusely as we finally reached SFT and less than a minute later, I met my junior Marcus at SFT as he was booking out. Seems that he got in a tiny bit of trouble last week over some of the rules he laid down during his lesson, and he had to go back to AFC to talk to MISTER OHK. I assured him that MISTER OHK is a jackass and that nothing would happen to him before I boarded the ferry. Onward to Tekong! Only had two lessons yesterday afternoon, but since the days of booking out at 1500 are long gone, the four of us (me + Alex + Thiban + Robin) decided to book out at 1600. Just to play safe, you know.
This is where it gets interesting. At about 1540, MISTER OHK called me. He was adamant to know where I was. After telling him I was in Tekong, he doubted the validity of the fact that we had lessons in Tekong. WHAT A TOOL. I already told him in the morning I was going to Tekong, and the lessons were listed in the fucking weekly schedule. What was there to doubt? Anyways, he wanted us to call him from the TFT guardroom to pretty much make sure whoever was supposed to be in Tekong were indeed present. Good thing we decided to stick around, eh? A couple of minutes later, the four of us headed to the guardroom and I duly called the old coot. Unfortunately for us, the fucker told me to call him later. Bloody hell. Seeing how we had no choice and almost an hour to kill, we headed to the canteen to eat.
About 45 minutes later, we headed back to the guardroom. We were seriously hoping that the fat fuck wouldn’t screw us. After asking permission to enter the guardroom, I again was the one who made with the dialing. However, after getting through, OHK didn’t seem able to hear me properly (or he was feigning being deaf). A couple of seconds later, he hung up. Just like that. So, I decided to call him again. I was stopped, though, when the CAMP COMMANDANT OF BMTC (Col. Lee) stormed the guardroom and demanded to know why the four of us were in the guardroom since we were clearly not guards. Alex and I tried to explain to him that we were CCIs trying to contact our boss as per his instructions. In response, Col. Lee asked us who the fuck was OHK. It was a scary and great moment. Several minutes of interrogation ensued, before the RSM of BMTC came out to update Col. Lee of the situation involving us CCIs needing to call our moronic boss before we booked out. Suffice to say, Col. Lee didn’t really think much of MISTER OHK and his management techniques (or lack thereof). At the end of the day, he calmed down and simply told us not to enter the guardroom ever again unless we happened to be summoned to do so. Alex, Robin, Thiban and I then walked into the ferry with Col. Lee and as I took my seat, OHK called me. He wanted to ask where we were at that moment, since he couldn’t hear me properly when I called him several minutes ago. I told him what had happened, leaving out the fact that Col. Lee fucked us and demanded a letter of apology from him for letting his men abuse the guardroom like big shots. OHK was satisfied with what I had told him, and told us he’d be conducting regular checks on the Tekong Team from now on.
You would think that the above-mentioned would have satisfied the quota of the amount of drama one person can have in a single day. You would be wrong. At night, I was making my way back to PLC for stay-in, all the while thinking about my IPPT on Thursday. Reaching Lavender, the train stalled for a minute. The train operator informed us passengers that due to an incident further ahead, there would be some delays. I thought nothing of it at first. Oh, how foolish I was. The bloody same thing happened at Raffles Place and Redhill. Finally, upon arriving at Queenstown, I noticed that there were A LOT OF PEOPLE just standing around at the West-bound platform. Then, the train operator told us to get the fuck out of the train as the train would no longer be in service, due to an incident at Clementi MRT Station. And so, I waited.
For about 20 fucking minutes, as four more trains arrived at Queenstown and passengers from all four trains were forced out. It was insane. Finally, the fifth train came by…. and surprisingly, the passengers of that train remained where they were. Naturally, myself and the other rejects thought whatever the hell happened at Clementi had been resolved, so we entered this fifth train. After one minute of waiting around, the lights of the train went out, and everybody was told once again to fuck off. I was bloody pissed, and made my frustrations known with an audible expletive utterance. I was made to wait ten more minutes before West-bound train services was resumed. And as I finally reached Clementi, my interest was piqued: tons of policemen and Civil Defense personnel were crawling all over, with yellow-tape cordoning off a large section of the West-bound platform. The other passengers on the train immediately thought that there was an alleged bomb threat earlier on. My curiousity in this matter waned as we left Clementi, mainly because I realised that if I wanted to get some grub before heading back to camp, I could quite possibly be late for the roll-call at 2200. Thankfully, nothing else happened after Clementi and I was able to both purchase food and make it back to AFC on time to regale the rest on the frantic day I’d had.
Tuesday morning was tiring. Instead of a simple run for the LIFE Activity, I was forced to partake in three sets of circuit training. What irked me was the regulars fleeing the scene moments before the madness began. Bloody hell, they are supposed to set the example for us, yet they have the balls to preach to us about the dangers of shirking from our responsibilities. Fucking bullshit hypocrisy. Whatever. After the circuit training, I lay in wait for OHK’s afternoon meeting with the Night Activity Committee. I was able to secure two mornings off (one for tomorrow and one for Friday), which meant I didn’t have to stay in tonight. The rest of the morning moved along slowly, until OHK appeared and demanded his regulars to prepare for an important meeting regarding CCTW affairs. They disappeared for two hours, and showed up only after lunch. This didn’t bode well for me, since I figured the fat fuck would delay the committee meeting until late-afternoon. After he disappeared for lunch at around 1400, Azfar and I decided to head to the Medical Centre: he wanted to submit his recommendation for downgrading letter, and I needed to get my X-Rays checked out.
What followed was nearly three hours being cooped up at the Medical Centre, being bored and just goofing off with Azfar. I effectively missed the stupid meeting, and got my X-Ray checked out at the same time. WHOO. I was informed that my X-Ray showed no sign of anything major and thus results were inconclusive. Therefore, I now have an appointment with a specialist in December. Azfar’s downgrading plans were dashed, and he too now has to see the specialist. Headed back to AFC at around 1715, told OHK what my medical situation was, and I was on the way home less than 30 minutes later.
Whew. Been a crazy couple of days, eh? Now, I have a date with destiny this Thursday. It’s time to take my IPPT. Tomorrow night could be my last night staying in. I say could, because something bad might happen. The question now is — do I have what it takes to pass my IPPT?
The answer, alas, is not known to me now. Good thing or bad thing? I don’t know. Which, quite honestly, really frightens me.
