Why?Why?Why?

Maybe it's because I really miss Penn, or I'm just trying to adjust back to being home, but the last one week has been excruciatingly frustrating for me. I haven't been quite as irritated, snappish and muddled for quite some time till now. Everything has the propensity to piss me off. Strangers on the streets. The humidity and heat. The intercom on the subway telling me every few seconds in four languages to hold on to the handrail when using the escalator. Not being able to walk more than a couple of steps in Orchard Rd without a survey about my favourite shopping centre being thrusted into my face. Trying to get use to messaging on my old Nokia handphone. The clutter. The drilling. Going back to old places and realising they have been refurbished or demolished. I have felt like doing nothing the last one week but sit and stare. What am I doing here? I keep asking myself. Reg says it's cause' I'm back when I rather be travelling. True. But I chose to come back. Coming back was like pushing me out of my comfort zone. I want to go back to my stouffer annex room at penn, hear the mouse squek and plonk down on my purple duvet while listening to ryan play the harmonica and agustin jam on the guitar. I want to walk back out and find Philly Diner opened at 3am for tea and pancakes. I want to fight with siong about making me waffles at commons' dining hall after lunch. I want to walk into my communal bathroom and whinge with my floormates over the sad dirty sty it has become every sunday. I want to stand in front of my wardrobe every friday and saturday night wondering how to look decent yet not get pneumonia while clubbing with mike and eddie, and kern and yuqing. I want to eat at mi la wa in chinatown on saturday nights after partying downtown. I want my locust walk, chestnut street, walnut street and huntsman building. Sitting at the stouffer front desk reception trying to do homework while searching for cheap airtickets to Miami. The transition from my one year unpredictable hyper life to a 9-6pm job back in Singapore was as drastic as it gets. For one week, it has been wake up. Take MRT to work. Work. Lunch. Work. Dinner. Home. Talk to Bob on phone. Sleep. There was a brief hiatus when I told my colleagues at a brainstorming session that my contribution to the discussion was slow moving clowns. I amused myself. Then it was back to the routine. I started questioning my career options, my country of residency options, my religion and in general, the purpose of my life. For one year, I have been wanting to do the travel thing. Now I did the travel thing, it's like...ok...so what is next? What's the next goal? I sit at my table, stare at the ceiling and go "What the hell am I doing here?" and then type angry emails to people.

Tonight's dinner with Stella rooted me back to reality as she told me about her adjustment period back from penn last semester. It is true, life has to go on. I can't keep living in the past. I am back in Singapore for a reason and I should make use of my time here. It is hard and I have been perpetuating my frustration by sulking and whinging and banging my head against the table. No matter where I go now, I will feel homesick about at least two other places. I know I am blessed to be able to feel that way, yet right now at this moment, it sucks and I just feel like i cannot connect anymore. Well at least the sight of the new funky colour-changing canopies at Clarke Quay cheered me up. And eating briyani opposite a very multiracial family in Little India. Let's hope the novelty doesn't wear off.