Enjoy, if you can

I have seen the future, and boy is it bleak.

After lingering on the the Students At-Risk list year in, year out, I am finally fulfilling my innate potential and dropping out of school entirely.

I am going to take up a salesgirl position, settle down with a beng who takes a fancy to me complain to my 1.3 children about their father. complain to anyone who would listen about how could I have married for money. which I might, but will actually be unlikely to do so because I do not have the attributes of a Trophy Wife. My children and husband will complain to their colleagues and friends and each other about the bland food their mother prepares. I will either grow fatter or be further reduced to skin and bones. I will try not to practice favouritism among my kids. and every year or dinner regale them with the same tales of how I used to have teachers who were the nephews of Minister so-an-so, how Singapore used to be so simple, without the inflammatory bloggers and the casinos, of the sacrifice I made for the family in leaving the workforce when my 1.3 children popped out (but I would not try to find a job, because I have 'lost touch'), and some other made-up tales. My husband will feel neglected, wonder where the woman he married disappeared to, and he ultimately betrays me when the 7 year itch presents itself. If I find out, I will pretend to not see it. And if confrontation becomes inevitable? Well, I will end my life, to quicken the process of writing of this entry. Fine.

I am entering the nameless masses, will be floundering in the sewers, and living the rest of my life out as a statistic in the bell curve my high school Chem teacher went on and on about. One life, live it.