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Which is step one?

You know, I am one of those people that questions "What does it all mean?" whenever anything out-of-the-ordinary occur in my oh-so-ordinary life. I guess I take comfort in reason, and that in life, there is reason to everything. There is reason why I am snacking on a cracker at my desk (hunger). There is reason why my colleague stumbles 15 minutes late into the office every day (traffic jam).

But sometimes I find myself scratching my head profusely, wondering whether there is indeed any reason to some things at all. Like the string of events that occurred to me last Friday.

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It all started with me standing infront of a mirror trying to tie a tie. It was a beautiful deep purple hued tie my Pa bought for me from Sweden. And there I was, fumbling over with my bread stick fingers, trying to tie it.

If you are not in the loop, I have to confess that all these years in the academic and working world, I have not mastered how to tie a tie. Shameful? Yes. More shameful that I would resort in having my Pa or my eight year old brother to tie my ties in advance for me. And then hearing my Pa boom "You have to learn!" in the hallways. Or my eight year old brother shaping his little fingers into an L-shape against his forehead and then calling me a loser. Whatever.

But last Thursday, my colleague sat infront my desk and said, "You gotta fix that tie. The knot is off tangent." I stared at him in the eyes, and said, Can you show me how to fix it? And he did. You should have seen the big smile I had the whole afternoon. Me! Tied my own ties!

But, on that Friday morning, I could not remember the proper steps. And instead of a perfectly American knotted tie, it just looks like a tie with many, many knots in it. It was ugly. I hated it. Useless tie! And I stormed off, grabbed one of my knotted-in-advance ties, and then, ten minutes late to the office. What a way to start the day!

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Later that day, I had a big meeting with several important individuals from differing divisions in my company. After several cups of hot tea and plates of cheese sandwiches, I managed to receive their input on the strategies I developed for a certain project. When the meeting was adjourned, I packed up my laptop and next, the projector.

And that's when it all occur.

I guess my body did not anticipate how heavy the projector was, so instead of sliding towards me when I pulled, the projector remained still. As a result, I pulled every muscle in my back and I yelped. The pain!!! Well, not aloud, but in my head I was like, the pain!!! The pain!!! while the important individuals gracefully exited the meeting room.

It was also a true test of Faith when I had to go for Friday prayers with the pain on my back. Every time I stood up, I was like the pain!!! Every time I sat down, I was like the pain!!! And no matter how hard I prayed, it just would not go away.

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The thing about me is that I like to park my car by the park on Fridays. You know, the three ringgit one? Well, the great thing about parking there is that it was nearby the mosque, so limping a few metres did not seem that bad at all. But, be reminded, that on that day it was no ordinary day for me.

When prayers was done and I limped towards the carpark to change into my office shoes (I was wearing flip flops for prayers), I saw in the distance some guys running. And the weird thing was they were running like for their lives. At first, I thought a gang of rabid dogs was chasing them. But, I found out that it was worst that that.

It was raining! And it was raining towards me! At that point, I was like, what on Earth am I suppose to do? Should I limp my way to the office which was meters and meters away? Or should I limp to my car which was a meter away but boasted rain? I took the second option, and found myself wet in my car, with a terrible back pain, and having only fifteen minutes to another meeting.

There was no sane way for me to walk back to my office in the cats-and-dogs, so I decided to drive my car out and park in the underground parking instead. The funny thing was that all the entrance of underground parking had a sign that says it is full! Isn't that just so funny???

I circled the building many times hoping that I could enter one of the underground parking, but I was short of luck. It was still full. I had no option but to park at one of the hotels instead. So, I opened my car window slightly and pressed the button of the parking machines. And for some odd reason, the parking ticket flew! It flew out of the machines and out of my hands. I thought it dropped to the ground, but when I opened the car door and looked at the ground, I could not see any signs of the white ticket at all!

It did not help that cars behind me honked like crazy, so I was pressured to go down into the carpark without a ticket in my hand. How much will this cost me? I thought. Once I parked my car, I decided to just come clean with the hotel folks and said that the ticket flew and I don't know where it went. So I got of my car, and was prepared to tell this story.

But, I guess there must be atleast one good thing out of this whole weird experience, because there it was: the ticket glued onto the outside of my wet car. What luck!

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So, there it is. Last Friday. If you can find any reason to any of it, well, do entertain me. But, for all I know, it does add color to my oh-so-ordinary life, don't you think?